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THE 

Story of Ireland; 

A NARRATIVE OF IRISH HISTORY, 

From the Earliest Ages to the Insurrection of 1867. 

WRITTEN FOl! THE YOUTH OF IRELAND 
Alexander M. Sullivan, M. P. 

WITH A SUPPLEMENTARY SKETCH OF LATER EVENTS 

BY JAMES LUBY. 

Illustrated 7vith Ntmierous Engravings, 

" She's not a dull or cold land ; 
No ! she's a warm and bold land ! 
Oh ! she's a true and old land, — 
A This native land of mine." 

1^ "0 " Never 'till the latest day, 

^ Shall the memory pass away 

Of the gallant lives, thus given for our land ; 

But on the cause must go, 

Through joy or weal or woe 

'Till we make our isle, a nation free and grand." 

T. D. Sullivan. ^^^ ^^ Ci.Uv^ -\ 



Providence, R I. 

HENRY McELROY 

1883. 




Copyright, 1883 

BY 

HENRY McELROY. 






ttfC LIBKAKT 

^t congress! 



r? ^ 



TO 



MY YOUNG FELLOW-COUNTRYiMEN 



AT HOME AND IN EXILE, 



IN THE COTTAGE AND THE MANSION, 



AMIDST THE GREEN FIELDS AND IN THE CROWDED CITIES, 



SOON TO BE 



THE MEN OF IRELAND, 



I DEDICATE 



THIS LITTLE BOOK, WHICH CONTAINS 



THE STORY OF OUR COUNTRY, 



AND SUBSCRIBE MYSELF 



THEIR FRIEND. 



THE AUTHOR. 



PUBLISHER'S NOTICE. 



In placing this work at the disposal of the Irish American 
public, the publisher is glad to be able to announce that he 
has the authority and good will of Mr. A. M. Sullivan, M.P., 
the author, and also of Mr. T. D. Sullivan, M.P., the present 
holder of the author's rights. When he first determined upon 
the publication, the publisher opened correspondence with 
the former of these gentlemen. The reply came from Mr. T. 
D. Sullivan, and from it the following passage is quoted. 

My brother, Mr. A. M. Sullivan, M.P. has sent me a note which he recently re- 
ceived from you relative to the reprinting of "The Story of Ireland," by you in 
America, He has done so because the copyright of that work passed from him to me 
on my purchase of this concern from him three years ago. * » * * j^ writ- 
ing to me, he said he regarded your offer as an honorable one, and felt confident that 
you would act up to it, and he advised me, as the owner of the copyright, to accord 
you the permission you desired. I have much pleasure in doing so, on the conditions 
mentioned by you, and I hope your publication of the work will be in every way suc- 
cessful. 

Subsequent correspondence regarding the exact financial 
arrangements resulted m an agreement satisfactory to both 
parties. 

In one of his letters, Mr. Sullivan remarks, '* The sale m this 
country, (Ireland,) has been and continues to be very great." 
This is not surprising. The book has all the qualities neces- 
sary to meet the wants of the general public. It is so simply 
and clearly written as to form the best introduction to a know- 
ledge of Irish history that the young, or those hitherto unin- 
structed in the subject, can find ; at the same time it is so 
.spirited in style, so accurate in detail, and so patriotic in tone, 

1 



2 PUBLISHER'S NOTICE. 

that even the well-informed may read it with pleasure and 
advantage. 

In the American edition, all the original illustrations are re- 
produced, and, besides, many portraits have been added, 
which, it IS believed, will give the volume an additional in- 
terest. In this edition too, the author's plan of spelling the 
old Irish names, for the most part, as they are pronounced 
has been followed, as it is considered that the principal aim, 
in a popular work such as this, should be to contribute, in all 
possible respects, to the convenience of the reader. 



PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. 



In the chapters which I have written at the close of this 
volume I have aimed not so much to continue as to supplement 
Mr. Sullivan's narrative. The work of that gentleman re- 
mains as it came from his pen, unaltered and unabridged. It 
is, so far as it goes, distinct and complete in itself. Similarly 
what I have written, 1 desire to be held separate and distinct 
from all that precedes it. 

Mr. Sullivan, throughout his book, expresses his honest 
opinions of men and things. I must be in no sense held respon- 
sible for these ; for, though in general I coincide with him m 
his views, there are expressions, notably as regards the Fen- 
ian movement, which I could in no degree endorse. On the 
other hand, Mr. Sullivan is equally little responsible for my 
opinions. He has never seen my work, and I have permitted 
my own best judgment alone to dictate my utterances. 

I am well pleased to aid in bringing before the Irish Amer- 
ican public so useful and patriotic a work as the " Story of 
Ireland. " 1 trust my efforts may contribute to a true under- 
standing of the nation's history, during an era pregnant with 
future result. I have made such endeavor as was possible, 
to present the facts of the last sixteen years, clearly and truth- 
fully. My first reliance has been on my own recollections 
of scenes and events which I have myself witnessed ; I have be- 
sides collected information orally from those whom I believ- 
ed to be at once well informed and honest. I have consulted 
few books, but have been materially aided by Mr. Sullivan's 
" New Ireland, " and other works of his ; and Mr. John 



4 PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. 

Devoy's sketch of the Land League, recently published. Fi- 
nally I have referred occasionally to the files of the " New 
York Herald," the Dublin " Irishman," the New York 
" Irish World," and John Devoy's " Irish Nation," the only 
newspapers to which I had reasonably easy access. 

I have only one word more to say. I desire to heartily 
join with Mr, Sullivan in his dedication of the book to the 
youth of Irish race in Ireland and America. 

J. L. 
New York, October 20th, 1883. 



AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 




HIS little book is written for young people. It does 
not pretend to the serious character of a History of 
Ireland. It does not claim to be more than a compila- 
tion from the many admirable works which have been 
pubUshed by painstaking and faithful historians. It is an 
effort to interest the young in the subject of Irish history, 
and attract them to its study. 

I say so much in deprecation of the stern judgment of 
learned critics. I say it futhermore and chiefly by way of 
owning my obligations to those authors the fruits of whose 
researches have been availed of so freely by me. To two of 
these in particular, Mr. M'Gee and Mr. Haverty, I am deeply 
indebted. In several instances, even where I have not ex- 
pressly referred to my authority, I have followed almost 
literally the text supplied by them. If I succeed in my de- 
sign of interesting my young fellow-countrymen in the subject 
of Irish history, I recommend them strongly to follow it up 
by reading the works of the two historians whom I have men- 
tioned. They possess this immeasurable advantage over 
every other previously published history of Ireland, that in 
them the authors were able to avail themselves of the rich 
stores of material brought to light by the lamented O'Curry and 
O'Donovan, by Todd, Greaves, Wilde, Meehan, Gilbert, and 
others. These revelations of authentic history, inaccessible 
or unknown to previous history-writers, not only throw a 
flood of light upon many periods of our history heretofore 
darkened and obscured, but may be said to have given to 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 



many of the most important events in our annals an aspect 
totall}' new, and in some instances the reverse of that com- 
monly assigned to them. Mr. Haverty's book is Irish history 
clearly and faithfully traced, and carefully corrected by recent 
invaluable archaeological discoveries; Mr. M'Gee's is the 
only work of the kind accessible to our people which is yet 
more than a painstaking and reliable record of events. It 
rises above mere chronicling, and presents to the reader 
the philosophy of history, assisting him to view great move- 
ments and changes in their comprehensive totality, and to 
understand the principles which underlay, promoted, guided, 
or controlled them. 

In all these, however, the learned and gifted authors have 
aimed high. They have written for adult readers. Mine is 
an humble, but I trust it may prove to be a no less useful aim. 
I desire to get hold of the young people, and not to offer them 
a learned and serious " history," which might perhaps be as- 
sociated in their minds with school tasks and painful efforts 
to remember when this king reigned or whom that one slew ; 
but to have a pleasant talk with them about Ireland ; to tell 
them its story, after the manner of simple storytellers ; not 
confusing their minds with a mournful series of feuds, raids, 
and slaughters, merely for the sake of noting them ; or with 
essays upon the state of agriculture or commerce, religion 
or science, at particular periods — all of which they will find 
instructive when they grow to an age to comphrehend and 
be interested in more advanced works. I desire to do for our 
young people that which has been well done for the youth 
of England by numerous writers. I desire to interest them 
in their country ; to convince them that its history is no wild, 
dreary, and uninviting monotony of internecine slaughter, 
but an entertaining and instructive narrative of stirring 
events, abounding with episodes, thrilling, glorious and 
beautiful. 

I do not take upon myself the credit of being the first to 
remember that " the Child is father of the Man. " The Rev. 
John O'Hanlon's admirable "Catechism of Irish History" 
has already well appreciated that fact. I hope there will 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 7 

follow many besides myself to cater for the amusement and 
instruction of the young people. They deserve more atten- 
tion than has hitherto been paid them by our Irish book- 
writers. In childhood or boy-hood to-day, there rapidly 
approaches for them a to-morrow, bringing manhood, with 
its cares, duties, responsibilities. When we who have pre- 
ceded them shall have passed away for ever, they will be the 
men on whom Ireland must depend. They will make her 
future. They will guide her destinies. They will guard her 
honor. They will defend her life. To the service of this 
" Irish Nation of the Future" I devote the following pages, 
confident that ray young friends will not fail to read aright 
the lesson which is taught by " The Story of Ireland." 

Dublin, 15th, August. 1867. 



INTRODUCTORY. 



HOW WE LEARN THE FACTS OF EARLY HISTORY. 

(^Pii T may occur to my young friends, that, before I begin 
"^^ij my narration, I ought to explain how far or by what 
^f^ means any one now living can correctly ascertain and 
-^ (^ narrate the facts of very remote history. The reply 
is, that what we know of history anterior to the keeping of 
written records, is derived from the traditions handed down 
*' by word of mouth " from generation to generation. We 
may safely assume that the commemoration of important 
events by this means, was, at first, unguarded or unregulated 
by any public authority, and accordingly led to much confu- 
sion, exaggeration, and corruption ; but we have positive and 
certain information that at length steps were taken to regulate 
these oral communications, and guard them as far as possible 
from corruption. The method most generally adopted for 
perpetuating them was to compose them into historical chants 
or verse-histories, which were easily committed to memory, 
and were recited on all public or festive occasions. When 
written records began to be used, the events thus commemo- 
rated were set down in the regular chronicles. Several of 
these latter, in one shape or another, are still in existence. 
From these we chiefiy derive our knowledge, such as it is, of 
the ancient history of Erinn. 

It is, however, necessary to remember that all history of 
very early or remote times, unless what is derived from the 
narratives of Holy Writ, is clouded, to a greater or lesser 



10 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

degree, with doubt and obscurity, and is, to a greater or 
lesser degree, a hazy mixture of probable fact and manifest 
fable. When writing was unknown, and before measures 
were taken to keep the oral traditions with exactitude and 
for a public purpose, and while yet events were loosel}' hand- 
ed down by unregulated " hearsay " which no one was 
charged to guard from exaggeration and corruption, some of 
the facts thus commemorated became gradually distorted, 
until after great lapse of time, whatever was described as mar- 
vellously wonderful in the past, was set down as at least 
partly supernatural, and the long dead heroes whose prowess 
had become fabulously exaggerated, came to be regarded as 
demi-gods. 

It is thus as regards the early history of ancient Rome and 
Greece. It is thus with the early history of Ireland, and in- 
deed of all other European countries. 

It would, however, be a great blunder for any one to con- 
clude that because some of those old mists of early tradition 
contain such gross absurdities, they contain no truths at all. 
Investigation is every day more and more clearly establishing 
the fact that, shrouded in some of the most absurd of those 
fables of antiquity, there are indisputable and valuable truths 
ol history. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND 



I. — HOW THE MILESIANS SOUGHT AND FOUND "THE PROMISED 
ISLE"~AND CONQUERED IT. 




HE earliest settlement or colo- 
nization of Ireland ol which 
there is tolerably precise and 
satisiactory information, was 
that by the sons of Miledh or Mile- 
sius, from whom the Irish are occa- 
sionally styled Milesians, There are 
abundant evidences that at least two or three " waves" of colo- 
nization had long previously reached the island ; but it is not 
very clear whence they came. Those first settlers are severally 
known in history as the Partholanians, the Nemedians, the Fir- 
bolgs, and the Tuatha de Danaans. These latter, the Tuatha de 
Danaans, who immediately preceded the Milesians, possessed 
a civilization and a knowledge of " arts and sciences " which. 



12 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

limited as we may be sure it was, greatly amazed the earlier 
settlers (whom they had subjected) by the results it produced. 
To the Firbolgs (the more early settlers) the wonderful things 
done by the conquering new-comers, and the wonderful know- 
ledge they displayed, could only be the results of supernatural 
power. Accordingly they set down the Tuatha de Danaans 
as " magicians," an idea which the Milesians, as we shall pre- 
sently see, also adopted. 

The Firbolgs seem to have been a pastoral race ; the Tuatha 
de Danaans were more of a manufacturing and commercial 
people. The soldier Milesian came, and he ruled over all. 

The Milesian colony reached Ireland from Spain,* but they 
Avere not Spaniards. They were an eastern people who had 
tarried in that country on their way westward, seeking, they 
said, an island promised to the posterity of their ancestor, 
Gadelius. Moved by this mysterious purpose to fulfil their 
■destiny, they had passed from land to land, from the shores 
■of Asia across the wide expanse of southern Europe, bearing 
aloft through all their wanderings the Sacred Banner, which 
symbolized to them at once their origin and their mission, the 
blessing and the promise given to their race. This celebrated 
standard, the " Sacred Banner of the Milesians," was a flag 
on which was represented a dead serpent and the rod of 
Moses; a device to commemorate igr ever amongst the pos- 
terity of Gadelius the miracle by which his life had been 
saved. The story of this event, treasured with singular per- 
tinacity by the Milesians, is told as follows in their traditions, 
which so far I have been followinsr : — 

While Gadelius, being yet a child, was sleeping one day, 
he was bitten by a poisonous serpent. His father— Niul, a 
younger son of the king of Scythia — carried the child to the 
camp of the Israelites, then close by, where the distracted 
parent with tears and prayers implored the aid of Moses. 
The inspired leader was profoundly touched by the anguish 
of Niul. He laid the child down, and prayed over him ; then 



* The settled Irish account; but this is also disputed by theorists who contend that 
all the waves of colonization reached Ireland from the continent across Britain. 



THE STORY OF lEELAND. 13^ 

he touched with his rod the wound, and the boy arose healed. 
Then, say the Milesians, the man of God promised or prophe- 
sied for the posterity of the young prince, that they should 
inhabit a country in which no venemous reptile could live, an 
island which they should seek and find in the track of the 
setting sun. 

It was not, however, until the third generation subsequently 
that the descendants and people of Gadelius are found setting 
forth on their prophesied wanderings ; and of this migration 
itself— of the adventures and fortunes of the Gadelian colony 
in its journeyings — the history would make a volume. At 
length we find them tarrying in Spain, where they built a city, 
Brigantia, and occupied and ruled a certain extent of territory. 
It is said that Ith (pronounced " Eeh") uncle of Milesius, an 
adventurous explorator, had, in his cruising northward of the 
Brigantian coast, sighted the Promised Isle, and landing to 
explore it, was attacked by the inhabitants (Tuatha de 
Danaans), and mortally wounded ere he could regain his ship. 
He died at sea on the way homeward. His body was rever- 
entially preserved and brought back to Spain by his son, Lui 
(spelled Lugaid),* who had accompanied him, and who now 
summoned the entire Milesian host to the last stage of their 
destined wanderings — to avenge the death of Ith, and occupy 
the promised isle. The old patriarch himself, Miledh, had 
died before Lui arrived : but his sons all responded quickly 
to the summons ; and the widowed queen, their mother, Scota, 
placed herself at the head of the expedition, which soon sailed 
in thirty galleys for " the isle they had seen in dreams." The 
names of the sons of Milesius who thus sailed for Ireland were, 



* Here let me at the outset state, once for all, that I have decided after mature 
consideration, to spell most of the Irish names occurring in our annals according to 
their correct pronunciation or sound, and not according to their strictly correct ortho- 
graphy in the Irish language and typography. I am aware of all that may fairly be 
said against this course ; yet consider the weight of advantage to be on its side. Some 
of our Irish names are irretrievably Anglicized in the worst form — uncouth and absurd. 
Choosing, therefore, between difficulties and objections, I have decided' to rescue the 
correct pronunciation in this manner ; giving, besides, with sufficient frequency, the 
correct orthography. 



14 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

Heber the Fair, Amergin, Heber the Brown, Colpa, Ir, and 
Heremon ; and the date of this event is generally supposed 
to have been about fourteen hundred years before the birth 
of our Lord. 

At that time Ireland, known as Innis Ealga (the Noble Isle), 
was ruled over by three brothers, Tuatha de Danaan princes, 
after whose wives (who were three sisters) the island was al- 
ternately called, Eire, Banba (or Banva), and Fiola (spelled 
Fodhla), by which names Ireland is still frequently styled in 
national poems. Whatever difficulties or obstacles beset the 
Milesians in landing they at once attributed to the "necro- 
mancy" of the Tuatha de Danaans, and the old traditions narrate 
amusing stories ot the contest between the resources of magic 
and the power of valor. When the Milesians could not dis- 
cover land where they thought to sight it, they simply agreed 
that the Tuatha de Danaans had by their black arts rendered 
it invisible. At length they descried the island, its tall blue 
hills touched by the last beams of the setting sun, and from 
the galleys there arose a shout of joy ; Innisfail, the Isle of 
Destiny, was found ! * But lo, next morning the land was 
submerged, until only a low ridge appeared above the ocean. 
A device of the magicians, say the Milesians. Nevertheless 
they reached the shore and made good their landing. The 
"magician" inhabitants, however, stated that this was not a 
fair conquest by the rules of war ; that they had no standing 
army to oppose the Milesians; but if the new-comers would 
again take to their galleys, they should, t/ able once more to 
effect a landi?ig, be recognized as masters of the isle by the 
laws of war. 



* In Moore's Melodies the event here related is made the subject of the following 
verses : — 

"They came from a land beyond the sea, 

And now o'er the western main 

Set sail, in their good ships, gallantly, 

From the sunny land of Spain. 
" Oh, where's the Isle we've seen in dreams, 
Our destin'd home or grave?" 
, Thus sung they as, by the morning's beams. 

They swept the Atlantic wave. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 15 

The Milesians did not quite like the proposition. They 
feared much the "necromancy" of the Tuatha de Danaan?. 
It had cost them trouble enough already to get their feet 
upon the soil, and they did not greatly relish the idea of hav- 
ing to begin it all over again. They debated the point, and 
It was resolved to submit the case to the decision of Amergin 
who was the Ollave (the Learned Man, Lawgiver, or Seer) ot 
the expedition. Amergin, strange to say, decided on the 
merits against his own brothers and kinsmen, and in favor of the 
Tuatha de Danaans. Accordingly, with scrupulous obedience 
of his decision, the Milesians relinquished all they had so far 
won. They reembarked in their galleys, and, as demanded, 
withdrew "nine waves off from the shore." Immediately a 
hurricane, raised, say their versions, by the spells of the magi- 
cians on shore, burst over the fleet, dispersing it in all direc- 
tions. Several of the princes and chiefs and their wives and 
retainers were drowned. The Milesians paid dearly for their 
chivalrous acquiescence in the rather singular proposition of 
the inhabitants endorsed by the decision of Amergin. When 
they did land next time, it was not in one combine^d force, but 
m detachments widely separated ; some at the mouth of' the 
Boyne ; others on the Kerry coast. A short but fiercely con- 
tested campaign decided the fate of the kingdom. In the first 
great pitched battle, which was fought in a glen a few miles 



" And, lo, where afar o'er ocean shines 

A sparkle of radiant green. 
As though in that deep lay emerald mines. 

Whose light through the wave was seen. 
" 'Tis Innisfail— 'tis Innisfail ! 

Rings o'er the echoing sea ; 
While, bending to heav'n, the warriors hail 

That home of the brave and free. 

"Then turn'd they unto the Eastern wave, 

Where now their Day-God's eye 
A look of such sunny omen gave 

As lighted up sea and sky. 
Nor frown was seen through sky or sea. 

Nor tear o'er leaf or sod, 
When first on their Isle of Destiny 

Our great forefathers trod." 



16 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

south of Tralce,* the Milesians were victorious. But they 
lost the aged Queen-Mother, Scota, who fell amidst the slain, 
and was buried beneath a royal cairn in Glen Scohene, close 
by. Indeed the Queens of ancient Ireland figure very prom- 
inently in our history, as we shall learn as we proceed. In 
the final engagement, which was fought at Tailtan in Meath, 
between the sons of Milesius and the three Tuatha de Danaan 
kings, the latter were utterly and finally defeated, and were 
themselves slain. And with their husbands, the three brothers, 
there fell upon that dreadful day, when crown and country, 
home and husband, all were lost to them, the three sisters. 
Queens Eire, Banva, and Fiola ! 



* All that I have been here relating is a condensation of traditions, very old, and 
until recently little valued or credited by historical theorists. Yet singular corrobor- 
ations have been turning up daily, establishing the truth of the main facts thus hand- 
ed down. Accidental excavations a few years since in the glen which tradition has 
handed down as the scene of this battle more than three thousand years ago, brought 
to light full corroboration of this fact, at least, that a battle of great slaughter was 
fought upon the exact spot some thousands of years ago. 





QUEEN SCOTA UNFURLS THE SACRED BANNER. 



See page 13. 



THE STOBY OF IRELAND. 19 



II. — HOW IRELAND FARED UNDER THE MILESIAN DYNASTY. 

^^T is unnecessary to follow through their details the pro- 
^ ceedings of the Milesian princqs in the period imme- 
M diately subsequent to the landing. It will suffice to state 
that in a comparatively brief time they subdued the 
country, entering, however, into regular pacts, trea- 
ties, or alliances with the conquered but not powerless Firbolgs 
and Tuatha de Danaans. According to the constitution under 
which Ireland was governed for more than a thousand years, 
the population of the island were distinguished in two classes 
— the Free Clans, and the Unfree Clans ; the former being the 
descendants of the Milesian legions, the latter the descendants 
of the subjected Tuatha de Danaans and Firbolgs. The lat- 
ter were allowed certain rights and privileges, and to a great 
extent regulated their own internal affairs; but they could 
not vote in the selection of a sovereign, nor exercise any other 
of the attributes of full citizenship without special leave. 
Indeed, those subject populations occasioned the conquerors 
serious trouble by their hostility from time to time for cen- 
turies afterwards. 

The sovereignty of the island was jointly vested in, or as- 
sumed by, Heremon and Heber, the Romulus and Remus of 
ancient Ireland. Like these twin brothers, who, seven hun- 
dred years later on, founded Rome, Heber and Heremon 
quarrelled in the sovereignty. In a pitched battle fought 
between them Heber was slain, and Heremon remained sole 
ruler of the island. For more than a thousand years the 
dynasty thus established reigned in Ireland, the sceptre never 
passing out of the famil}'' of Milesius in the direct line of de- 
scent, unless upon one occasion (to which I shall more fully 
advert at the proper time) for the brief period of less than 
twenty years. The Milesian sovereigns appear to have ex- 
hibited considerable energy in organizing the country and 
establishing what we may call " institutions," some of which 
have been adopted or copied, with improvements and adap- 
tations, by the most civilized governments of the present day; 



20 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

and the island advanced in renown for valor, for wealth, for 
manufactures, and for commerce. 

By this, however, my young readers are not to suppose that 
anything like the civilization of our times, or even faintly ap- 
proaching that to which ancient Greece and Rome afterwards 
attained, prevailed at this period in Ireland. Not so. But, 
compared with the civilization of its own period in Northern 
and Western Europe, and recollecting how isolated and how 
far removed Ireland was from the great centre and source of 
colonization and civilization in the East, the civilization of 
pagan Ireland must be admitted to have been proudly emi- 
nent. In the works remaining to us of the earliest writers 
of ancient Rome, we find references to Ireland that attest the 
high position it then held in the estimation of the most civil- 
ized and learned nations of antiquity. From our own histor- 
ians we know that more than fifteen hundred years before the 
birth of our Lord, gold mining and smelting, and artistic 
Avorking in the precious metals, were carried on to a great 
extent in Ireland. Numerous facts might be adduced to 
prove that a high order of political, social, industrial, and in- 
tellectual intelligence prevailed in the country. Even in an 
ao-e which was rudely barbaric elsewhere all over the world, 
the superiority of intellect over force, of the scholar over the 
soldier, was not only recognized but decreed by legislation in 
Ireland ! We find in the Irish chronicles that in the reign of 
Eochy the First (more than a thousand years before Christ) 
society was classified into seven grades, each marked by the 
number of colors in its dress, and that in this classification 
7nen of learning, i. e. eminent scholars, or savants ?^'&\\\Qy would 
now be called, were by law ranked next to royalty. 

But the most signal proof of all, attesting the existence in 
Ireland at that period of a civilization marvellous for its time, 
was the celebrated institution of the Feis Tara, or Triennial 
Parliament of Tara, one of the first formal parliaments or 
legislative assemblies of which we have record.* This great 

• The AmphLctyonic Council did not by any means partake to a like extent of the 
nature and character of a parliament. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 21 

national legislative assembly was instituted by an Irish mon- 
arch, whose name survives as a synonym of wisdom and jus- 
tice, Ollav Fiola (OlUrr) potU,), who reigned as Ard Ri of 
Erinn about one thousand years before the birth of Christ. 
To this assembly were regularly summoned : — 

Firstly— All the subordinate royal princes or chieftains ; 

Secondly— Ollaves and bards, judges, scholars, and histor- 
ians ; and 

Thirdly— Military commanders. 

We have in the old records the most precise accounts of 
the formalities observed at the opening and during the sitting 
of the assembly, from which we learn that its proceedings 
were regulated with admirable order and conducted with the 
greatest solemnity. 

Nor was the institution of " triennial parliaments" the only 
instance in which this illustrious Irish monarch, two thousand 
eight hundred years ago, anticipated to a certain extent the 
forms of constitutional government of which the nineteenth 
century is so proud. In the civil administration of the king- 
dom the same enlightened wisdom was displayed. He organ- 
ized the country into regular prefectures. " Over every can. 
tred," says the historian, "he appointed a chieftain, and over 
every townland a kind of prefect or secondary chief, all being 
the officials of the king of Ireland." After a reign of more than 
forty years, this "true Irish king" died at an advanced age, 
having lived to witness long the prosperity, happiness, and 
peace which his noble efforts had diffused all over the realm. 
His real name was Eochy the Fourth, but he is more familiarly 
known in history by the title or soubriquet of " Ollav Fiola," 
that is, t/ie " Ollav," or lawgiver, preeminently of Ireland, or 
" Fiola." 

Though the comparative civilization of Ireland at this re- 
mote time was so high, the annals of the period disclose the 
usual recurrence of wars for the throne between rival members 
of the same dynasty, which early and medieval European his- 
tory in general exhibits. Reading over the history of ancient 
Ireland, as of ancient Greece, Rome, Assyria, Gaul, Britain, 
or Spain, one is struck by the number of sovereigns who fell 



22 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

by violent deaths, and the fewness of those who ended their 
reigns otherwise. But those were the days when between 
kings and princes, chiefs and warriors, the sword was the 
ready arbiter that decided all causes, executed all judgments, 
avenged all wrongs, and accomplished all ambitions. More- 
over, it is essential to bear in mind that the kings of those 
times commanded and led their own armies, not merely in 
theory or by " legal fiction," but in reality and fact; and that 
personal participation in the battle and prowess in the field was 
expected and was requisite on the part of the royal commander. 
Under such circumstances one can easily perceive how it 
came to pass, naturally and inevitably, that the battle-field 
became ordinarily the deathbed of the king. In those early 
times the kings who did not fall by the sword, in fair battle or 
unfair assault, were the exceptions everywhere. Yet it is a re- 
markable fact, that we find the average duration of the reigns 
of Irish monarchs, for fifteen hundred or two thousand years 
after the Milesian dynasty ascended the throne, was as long 
as that of most European reigns in the seventeenth, eighteenth, 
and nineteenth centuries. Several of the Milesian sovereigns 
enjoyed reigns extending to over thirty years ; some to fifty 
years. Many of them were highly accomplished and learned 
men, liberal patrons of arts, science, and commerce ; and as 
one of them, fourteen hundred years before the Christian era, 
instituted regularly convened parliaments, so we find others 
of them instituting orders of knighthood and Companionships 
of Chivalry long before we hear of their establishment else- 
where. 

The Irish kings of this period, as well as during the first ten 
centuries of the Christian age, infrequent instances intermar- 
ried with the royal families of other countries — Spain, Gaul, 
Britain, and Alba ; and the commerce and manufactures of Ire- 
land were, as the early Latin writers acquaint us, famed in all 
the marts and ports of Europe. 



THE STORY OF lEELAND. 23 




III.— HOW THE UNFREE CLANS TRIED A REVOLUTION; AND 
WHAT CAME OF IT. HOW THE ROMANS THOUGHT IT VAIN TO 
ATTEMPT A CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 

URING those fifteen hundred years preceding the 
Christian era, the other great nations of Europe, the 
Romans and the Greeks, were passing, by violent 
,^^ changes and bloody convulsions, through nearly every 
conceivable form of government — republics, confeder- 
ations, empires, kingdoms, limited monarchies, despotisms, 
consulates, etc. During the like period (fifteen centuries) the 
one form of government, a limited monarchy, and the one 
dynasty, the Milesian, ruled in Ireland. The monarchy was 
r/^r/zW, but elective out of the eligible members of the estab- 
lished or legitimate dynasty. 

Indeed the principle of "legitimacy," as it is sometimes 
called in our times — the hereditary right of a ruling family or 
dynasty — seems from the earliest ages to have been devotedly, 
I might almost say superstitiously, held by the Irish. Wars 
for the crown, and violent changes of rulers, were always fre- 
quent enough ; but the wars and the changes were alwa^'s 
between members of the ruling family or " blood royal ;" and 
the two or three instances to the contrary that occur, are so 
singularly strong in their illustration of the fact to which I 
have adverted, that I will cite one of them here. 

The Milesians and the earlier settlers never completely 
fused. Fifteen hundred years after the Milesian landing, the 
Firbolgs, the Tuatha deDanaans, and the Milesians were still 
substantially distinct races or classes, the first being agricul- 
turists or tillers of the soil, the second manufacturers and mer- 
chants, the third soldiers and rulers. The exactions and oppres- 
sions of the ruling classes at one time became so grievous that in 
the reign succeeding that of Creivan the Second, who was the 
ninety-ninth Milesian monarch of Ireland, a wide-spread con- 
spiracy was organized for the overthrow and extirpation of the 



24 THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 

Milesian princes and aristocracy. After three years of secret 
preparation, everything being ready, the royal and noble Mile- 
sian families, one and all, were invited to a " monster meeting " 
for games, exhibitions, feastings, etc., on the plain of Knock 
Ma, in the county Galway. The great spectacle had lasted 
nine days, when suddenly the Milesians were set upon by the 
Attacotti (as the Latin chroniclers called the conspirators), and 
massacred to a man. Of the royal line there escaped, however, 
three princes, children yet 7inborn. Their mothers, wives of 
Irish princes, were the daughters respectively of the kings of 
Scotland, Saxony, and Brittany. They succeeded in escaping 
into Albion, where the three young princes were born and 
educated. The successful conspirators raised to the throne 
Carbry the First, who reigned five years, during which time, 
say the chronicles, the country was a prey to every misfor- 
tune ; the earth refused to yield, the cattle gave no milk, the 
trees bore no fruit, the waters had no fish, and " the oak had but 
one acorn."* Carbry was succeeded by his son, Moran, whose 
name deservedly lives in Irish history as " Moran the Just." 
He refused to wear the crown, which belonged, he said, to 
the royal line that had been so miraculously preserved ; and he 
urged that the rightful princes, who by this time had grown to 
man's estate, should be recalled. Moran's powerful pleading 
commended itself readily to the popular conscience, already 
disquieted by the misfortunes and evil omens which, as the 
people read them, had fallen upon the land since the legitimate 
line had been so dreadfully cut down. The young princes were 
recalled from exile, and one of them, Faradah the Righteous, 
was, amidst great rejoicing, elected king of Ireland. Moran 
was appointed chief judge of Erinn, and under his administra- 

* Such was the deep faith the Irish had in the principle of legitimacy in a dynasty! 
This characteristic of nearly all the Celtic nations survives in all its force in the Jacobite 
Relics of Ireland, the outburst of Irish national feeling seventeen hundred years sub- 
sequently. Ex. gr. Compare the above, taken from an old chronicle of the period, 
with the well-known Jacobite song translated from the Irish by Callanan: — 

" No more the cuckoo hails the spring ; 
No more the woods with staunch-hounds ring ; 
The sun scarce lights the sorrmuing day. 
Since the rightful prince is far away. " 



THE STOBY OB IRELAND. 25 

tion of justice the land long presented a scene of peace, happi- 
ness, and contentment. To the gold chain of office which 
xMoran wore on the judgment seat, the Irish for centuries 
subsequently attached supernatural powers. It was said that 
it would tighten around the neck of the judge if he was un- 
justly judging a cause ! 

The dawn of Christianity found the Romans masters of 
nearly the whole of the known world. Britain, after a short 
struggle, succumbed, and eventually learned to love the yoke. 
Gaul, after a gallant effort, was also overpowered and held 
as a conquered province. But upon Irish soil the Roman 
eagles were never planted. Of Ireland, or lerne, as thev 
called it, of its great wealth and amazing beauty of scenery 
and richness of soil, the all-conquering Romans heard much. 
But they had heard also that the fruitful and beautiful island 
was peopled by a soldier race, and, judging them by the few 
who occasionally crossed to Alba to help their British neigh- 
bors, and whose prowess and skill the imperial legions had 
betimes to prove, the conquest of lerne was wisely judged 
by the Romans to be a work better not attempted. 

The early centuries of the Christian era may be considered 
the period preeminently of pagan bardic or legendary fame in 
Ireland. In this, which we may call the "Ossianic" period, 
lived Cuhal or Cumhal, father of the celebrated Fin Mac 
Cumhal, and commander of the great Irish legion called Fiana 
Erion, or Irish militia. The Ossianic poems* recount the 
most marvellous stories of Fin and the Fiana Erion, which 
stories are compounds of undoubted facts and manifest fictions, 
the prowess of the heroes being in the course of time magnified 
into the supernatural, and the figures and poetic allegories of 
the earlier bards gradually coming to be read as realities. Some 
of these poems are gross, extravagant, and absurd. Others of 
them are of rare beauty, and are, moreover, valuable for the 
insight they give, though obliquely, into the manners and 
customs, thoughts, feelings, guiding principles, and moving 
passions of the ancient Irish. 

* So-called from their author, Oisin, or Ossian, the warrior poet, son of Fin, and 
grandson of Cuhal. 



26 



TEE STOKY OF IRELAND. 



IV. — BARDIC TALES OF ANCIENT ERINN. "THE SORROWFUL 
FATE OF THE CHILDREN OF USNA. " 




|NE of the oldest, and perhaps the 
most famous, of all the great 
national history-poems or bar- 
(^^ die tales of the ancient Irish, is 
called " The Fate of the Children ot 
Usna," the mcidents of which belong 
to the period preceding by half a cen- 
tury the Christian era, or anno mundi 
3,960. Indeed it was always classified 
by the bards as one of " The Three 
Sorrowful Tales of Erinn." Singularly enough, the story 
contains much less poetic fiction, and keeps much closer to 
the simple facts of history, than do several of the poems of 
Ossian's time written much later on. From the highly 
dramatic and tragic nature of the events related, one can well 
conceive that, clad in the beautiful idiom of the Irish tongue 
and told in the fanciful language of poetry, " The story ot the 
children of Usnach " was calculated to win a prominent place 
amongst the bardic recitals ot the pagan Irish. A semi-fan- 
ciful version of it has been given in English at great length 
bv Dr. Ferguson in the Hibernian Nights Entertainment ; but 
the story is variously related by other narrators. As it may, 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 27 

perhaps, be interesting to my young readers, I summarize the 
various versions here, as the only specimen I mean to give 
of the semi-imaginative literature of the pagan Irish : 

When Conor Mac Nessa was reigning king of Ulidia and 
Eochy the Tenth was Ard Ri of Erinn, it happened one day 
that Conor had deigned to be present at a feast which was 
given at the house of Felemi, son of the laureate of Ulster. 
While the festivities were going on, it came to pass that the 
wife of the host gave birth to a daughter ; and the infant being 
brought into the presence of the king and the other assembled 
guests, all saw that a beauty more than natural had been given 
to the child. In the midst of remark and marvel on all hands 
at the circumstance, Kavaiee, the chief druid of the Ulidians, 
cried out with a loud voice and prophesied that through the 
infant before them there would come dark woe and mis- 
fortune to Ulster, such as the land had not known for years. 
When the warriors heard this they all demanded that the 
child should instantly be put to death. But Conor inter- 
posed and forbade the deed. " I," said the king, " will my- 
self take charge of this beautiful child of destiny. I shall 
have her reared where no evil can befall through her or to her, 
and in time she may become a wife for me." Then the chief 
druid, Kavaiee, named the child Deirdri, which means alarm 
or danger. Conor placed the infant under the charge of a nurse 
or attendant, and subsequently a female tutor, in a residence 
situated in a district which no foot of man was allowed to 
tread ; so that Deirdri had grown to the age of woman before 
she saw a human form other than those of her female attend- 
ants. And the maiden was beautiful beyond aught that the 
eye of man had ever beheld. 

Meanwhile, at the courtofthe Ulidianking was a young noble 
named Naeisi, son of Usna, whose manly beauty, vigor, activity, 
and bravery were the theme of every tongue. One day, 
accompanied only by a faithful deerhound, Naeisi had hunted 
the deer from the rising of the sun, until towards evening, he 
found the chase had led him into a district quite strange to his 
eye. He paused to think how best he might retrace his way 



28 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

homeward, when suddenly the terrible idea flashed across his 
mind, that he was within the forbidden ground which it was 
death to enter — the watchfully-guarded retreat of the king's 
mysterious/rt^/r^/ Deirdri. While pondering on his fatal pos- 
ition, he came suddenly upon Deirdri and her nurse, who were 
strolling in the sunset by a running stream. Deirdri cried out 
with joy to her attendant, and asked what sort of a being it 
was who stood beyond ; for she had never seen any such be- 
fore. The consternation and embarrassment of the aged at- 
tendant was extreme, and she in vain sought to baffie Deirdri's 
queries, and to induce her to hasten homeward. Naeisi too, 
riveted by the beauty of Deirdri, even though he knew the 
awful consequences of his unexpected presence there, stirred 
not trom the scene. He felt that even on the penalty of death he 
would not lose the enchanting vision. He and Deirdri spoke 
to each other and eventually the nurse, perplexed at first, 
seems to have become a confidant to the attachment which 
on the spot sprung up between the young people. 

It was vain for them, however, to hide from themselves the 
fate awaiting them on the king's discovery of their affection, 
and accordingly Naeisi and Deirdri arranged that they would 
fiy into Alba, where they might find a home. Now Naeisi 
was greatly loved by all the nobles of Ulster ; but most of 
all was he loved by his two brothers, Anli and Ardan, and his 
affection for them caused him to feel poignantly the ideaof leav- 
ino- them for ever. So he confided to them the dread secret of 
his love for Deirdri, and of the flight he and she had planned. 
Then Anli and Ardan said that wherever Naeisi would fly, thith- 
er also would they go, and with their good swords guard their 
brother and the wife for whom he was sacrificing home and 
heritage. So, privately selecting a trusty band of one hun- 
dred and fifty warriors, Naeisi, Anli, and Ardan, taking Deir- 
dri with them, succeeding in making their escape out of 
Ireland and into Alba, where the king of that country, aware 
of their noble lineage and high valor, assigned them ample 
"maintenance and quarterage", as the bards express it. 
There they lived peacefully and happily for a time, until the 
fame of Deirdri's unequalled beauty made the Albanian king 



THE STOIIY OF IRELAND. 29 

restless and envious, reflecting that he might, as sovereign, 
himself claim her as wife, which demand at length he made. 
Naeisi and his brothers were filled with indignation at this ; but 
their difficulty was extreme, for whither now could they fly? 
Ireland was closed against them for ever ; and now they 
were no longer safe in Alba ! The full distress of their posi- 
tion was soon realized ; for the kingof Alba came with force of 
arms to take Deirdri. After many desperate encounters and 
adventures, however, any one of which would supply ample 
materials for a poem-story, the exiled brothers and their re- 
tainers made good their retreat into a small island off the 
Scottish coast. 

When it was heard in Ulidia that the sons of Usna were in 
such sore strait, great murmurs went round amongst the 
nobles of Ulster, for Naeisi and his brothers were greatly 
beloved of them all. So the nobles of the province eventu- 
ally spoke up to the king, and said it was hard and a sad thing 
that these three young nobles, the foremost warriors of Ulster, 
should be lost to their native land and should suffer such dif- 
ficulty " on account of one woman." Conor saw what dis- 
content and disaffection would prevail throughout the prov- 
ince if the popular favorites were not at once pardoned and 
recalled. He consented to the entreaties of the nobles, and a 
royal courier was dispatched with the glad tidings to the sons 
of Usna. 

When the news came, joy beamed on every face but on 
that of Deirdri. She felt an unaccountable sense of fear and 
sorrow, " as if of coming ill." Yet, with all Naeisi's unbounded 
love for her, she feared to put it to the strain of calling on him 
to choose between exile with her or a return to Ireland with- 
out her. For it was clear that both he and Anli and Ardan 
longed in their hearts for one glimpse of the hills of Erinn. 
However, she could not conceal the terrible dread that op- 
pressed her, and Naeisi, though his soul yearned for home, 
was so moved by Deirdri's forebodings, that he replied to the 
royal messenger by expressing doubts of the safety promised 
to him if he returned. 

When this answer reached Ulster, it only inflamed the dis- 



30 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

content against the king, and the nobles agreed that it was 
but right that the most solemn guarantees and ample sure- 
ties should be given to the sons of Usna on the part ot the 
king. To this also Conor assented ; and he gave Fergus Mac 
Roi, Dutha del Ulad, and Cormac Colingas as guarantees or 
hostages that he would himself act toward the sons of Usna in 
good faith. 

The royal messenger set out once more, accompanied by 
Fiachy, a young noble of Ulster, son of Fergus Mac Roi, one 
of the three hostages , and now there remained no excuse for 
Naeisi delaying to return. Deirdri still felt oppressed by the 
mysterious sense of dread and hidden danger; but (so she re- 
flected) as Naeisi and his devoted brothers had hitherto uncom- 
plainingly sacrificed everything for her, she would now sacrifice 
her feelings for their sakes. She assented, therefore (though 
with secret sorrow and foreboding), to their homeward voy- 
age. 

Soon the galleys laden with the returning exiles reached the 
Irish shore. On landing, they found a Dalaraidian legion 
waiting to escort them to Emania, the palace of the king; 
and of this legion the young Fiachy was the commander. 
Before completing the first day's march some misgivings 
seem occasionally to have flitted across the mmds of the 
brothers, but they were allayed by the frank and fearless, 
brave and honourable Fiachy, who told them to have no fear, 
and be of good heart. But every spear's length they drew 
near to Emania, Deirdri's feelings became more and more in- 
supportable, and so overpowered was she with the forbodingsof 
evil, that again the cavalcade halted, and again the brothers 
would have turned back but for the persuasions of their escort. 
Next day, towards evening, they sighted Emania. " O Naeisi," 
cried Deirdri, ** view the cloud that I here see in the sky ! I 
see over Eman Green a chilling cloud of blood-tinged red." 
But Naeisi tried to cheer her with assurances of safety and 
pictures of the happy days that were yet before them. 

Next day came Durthacht, chieftain of Fermae (now Farney), 
saying that he came from the king, by whose orders the charge 
of the escort should now be given to him. But Fiachy, whoper- 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 31 

haps at this stage began to have misgivings as to what was in 
meditation, answered, that to no one would he surrender the 
honorable trust confided to him on the stake of his father's 
life and honor, which with his own life and honor he would 
defend. 

And here, interrupting the summarized text of the story, I 
may state, that it is a matter of doubt whether the king was 
really a party to the treachery which ensued, or whether 
Durthacht and others themselves moved in the bloody busi- 
ness without his orders, using his name and calculating that 
what they proposed to do would secretly please him, would 
be readily forgiven or approved, and would recommend them 
to Conor's favor. Conor's character as it stands on the page 
of authentic history, would forbid the idea of such murderous 
perfidy on his part; but all the versions of the tale allege the 
king's guilt to be deep and plain. 

Fiachy escorted his charge to a palace which had been as- 
signed for them in the neighborhood ; and much to the discon- 
certing of Durthaht of Fermae, quartered his legion of Dalar- 
aidians as guards upon the building. That night neither the 
chivalrous Fiachy nor the Children of Usna disguised' the 
now irresistible and mournful conviction, that foul play was to 
be apprehended ; but Naeisi and his brothers had seen enough 
of their brave young custodian to convince them that, even 
though his own father should come at the palace gate to bid 
him connive at the surrender of his charge, Fiachy would 
defend them while life remained. 

Next morning the effort was renewed to induce Fiachy to 
band over the charge of the returned exiles. He was im- 
movable. " What interest is it of yours to obstruct the king's 
orders?" said Durthacht of Fermae; "can you not turn over 
your responsibility to us, and in peace and safety go your 
way?" "It is of the last interest to me," replied, Fiachy,. 
"to see that the Sons of Usna have not trusted in vain on the 
word of the king, on the hostage of my father, or on the honor of 
my father's son." Then all chance of prevailing on Fiachy 
being over, Durthacht gave the signal for assault, and the pal- 
ace was stormed on all sides. 



32 THE STORY OF IRELAND, 

Then spoke Naeisi, touched to the heart by the devotion 
and fidelity of Fiachy ; " Why should you perish defending 
us ? We have seen all. Your honor is safe, noblest of youths. 
We will not have you sacrificed vainly resisting the fate that 
for us now is clearly inevitable. We will meet death calmly, 
we will surrender ourselves, and spare needless slaughter." 
But Fiachy would not have it so, and all the entreaties of the 
Sons of Usna could not prevail upon him to assent. " I am 
here ' said he, "the representative of my father's hostage, of 
the honor of Ulster, and the word of the king. To these and 
on me you trusted. While 3'ou were safe you would have 
turned back, but for me. Now, they who would harm you 
must pass over the lifeless corpse of Fiachy." 

Then they asked that they might at least go forth on the 
ramparts and take part in the defence of the palace ; but 
Fiachy pointed out that by the etiquette of knightly honor in 
Ulidia, this would be infringing on his sacred charge. He 
was the pledge for their safety, and he alone should look to it. 
They must, under no circumstances, run even the slightest 
peril of a spear-wound, unless he should first fall, when by the 
laws of honor, his trust would have been acquitted, but not 
otherwise. So ran the code of chivalry amongst the warriors 
of Dalariada. 

Then Naeisi and his brothers and Deirdri withdrew into the 
palace, and no more, even by a glance, gave sign of any inter- 
est or thought whatsoever about their fate ; whether it was 
near or far, brightening or darkening ; " but Naeisi and Deir- 
dri sat down at a chess-board and played at the game." 

Meanwhile, not all the thunders of the heavens could equal 
the resounding din of the clanging of shields, the clash of 
swords and spears, the cries of the wounded, and the shouts 
of the combatants outside. The assailants were twenty to one ; 
but the faithful Fiachy and his Dalariadians performed prod- 
igies of valor, and at noon they still held the outer ramparts 
of all. By the assailants nothing had yet been won. 

An attendant rushed with word to Naeisi. He raised not 
his eyes from the board, but continued the game. 

But now the attacking party, having Secured reinforcements. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 33 

returned to the charge with increased desperation. For an 
hour there was no pause in the frightful fury of the struggle. 

At length the first rampart was won. 

A wounded guard rushed in with the dark news to Naeisi, 
who " moved a piece on the board, but never raised his eyes." 

The story in this way goes on to describe how, as each fosse 
surrounding the palace was lost and won, and as the din and 
carnage of the strife drew nearer and nearer to the doomed 
guests inside, each report from the scene of slaughter, wheth- 
er of good or evil report, failed aliisie to elicit the slightest 
motion of concern or interest one way or another from the 
brothers or from Deirdri. In all the relics we possess of the 
old poems or bardic stories of those pagan times, there is 
nothing finer than the climax of the tragedy which the semi- 
imaginative story I have been epitomising here proceeds to 
reach. The deafening clangor and bloody strife outside, 
drawing nearer and nearer, the supreme equanimity of the 
noble victims inside, too proud to evince the slightest emotion, 
is most powerfully and dramatically antithesised ; the story 
culminating in the final act of the tragedy, when the faithful 
Fiachy and the last of his guards having been slain, " the Sons 
of Usna " met their fate with a dignity that befitted three such 
noble champions of Ulster. 

When Fergus and Duthah heard of the foul murder of the 
Sons of Usna, in violation of the pledge for which they them- 
selves were sureties, they marched upon Emania, and, in a 
desperate encounter with Conor's forces, in which the king's 
son was slain and his palace burned to the ground, they in- 
augurated a desolating war that lasted in Ulster for many a 
year, and amply fulfilled the dark prophecy of Kavaiee the 
Druid in the hour of Deirdri's birth. 

Deirdri, we are told, " never smiled" from the day of the 
slaughter of her husband on Eman Green. In vain the king 
lavished kindness and favors upon her. In vain he exhaust- 
ed every resource in the endeavor to cheer, amuse, or inter- 
est her. One day, after more than a year had been passed by 
Deirdri in this settled but placid despair and melancholy, 
Conor took her in his own chariot to drive into the country. 



34l the story of Ireland. 

He attempted to jest her sarcastically about her continued 
grieving for Naeisi, when suddenly she sprang out of the 
chariot, then frying at the full speed of the steeds, and falling 
head foremost against a sharp rock on the road side, was kill- 
ed upon the spot. 

Well known to most Irish readers, young and old, is Moore's 
beautiful and passionate " Lament for the Children of Usna :"— 

Avenging and bright falls the swift sword of Erin 
On him who the brave sons of Usna betrayed ! — 

For every fond eye he hath waken'd a tear in, 
A drop from his heart-wounds shall weep o'er her blade ! 

By the red cloud that hung over Conor's dark dwelling, 
When Ulad's three champions lay sleeping in gore — 

By the billows of war, which so often, Ijigh swelling, 
Have wafted those heroes to victory's shore — 

We swear to revenge them ! — No joy shall be tasted, 

The harp shall be silent, the maiden unwed. 
Our halls shall be mute, and our fields shall lie wasted. 

Till vengeance is wreak'd on the murderer's head ! 

Yes, monarch, tho' sweet are our home recollections ; 

Though sweet are the tears that from tenderness fall ; 
Though sweet are our friendships, our hopes, our affections, 

Revenge on a tyrant is sweetest of all ! 




THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 



v.— THE DEATH OF KING CONOR MAC NESSA. 

£j6J{HAVE alluded to doubts suggested in my mind by 
=^11 the facts of authentic history, as to whether King 
^^ Conor Mac Nessa was likely to have played the foul 
6^ part attributed to him m this celebrated bardic story, 
and lor which, certainly, the" sureties" Fergus, Duth- 
ach, and Cormac, held him to a terrible account. All 
that can be said is, that no other incident recorded of him 
would warrant such an estimate of his character; and it is 
certain he was a man of many brave and noble parts. He 
met his death under truly singular circumstances. The ancient 
bardic version of the event is almost literally given in the fol- 
lowing poem, by Mr. T. D. Sullivan : — 

DEATH OF KIXG CONOR MAC NESSA. 

'T was a day full of sorrow for Ulster when Conor Mac Nessa went forth 

To punish the clansmen of Connaught who dared to take spoil from the North ; 

For his men brought him back from the battle scarce better than one that was dead, 

With the brain-ball of Mesgedra* buried two-thirds of its depth in his head. 

His royal physician bent o'er him, great Fingen who often before 

Staunched the war-battered bodies of heroes and built them for battle once more, 

And he looked on the wound of the monarch, and heark'd to his low-breathed sighs, 

And he said, "In the day when that missile is loosed from his forehead, he dies. 

II. 

" Yet long midst the people who love him Kmg Conor Mac Nessa may reign. 

If always the high pulse of passion be kept from his heart and his brain ; 

And for this I lay down his restrictions: — no more from this day shall his place 

Be with armies, in battles, or hostings, or leading the van of the chase ; 

At night, when the banquet is flashing, his measure of wine must be small, 

And take heed that the bright eyes of woman be kept from his sight above all ; .- 

For if heart-thrilhng joyance or anger awhile o'er his being have power, 

The ball will start forth from his forehead, and surely he dies in that hour." 

* The pagan Irish warriors sometimes took the brains out of champions whom they 
had slain in single combat, mixed them up with lime, and rolled them into balls, 
which hardened with time, and which they preserved as trophies. It was with one 
of these balls, which had been abstracted from his armory, that Conor Mac Nessa 
was wounded as described in the tex" 



36 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

III. 

Oh! woe for the valiant King Conor, struck down from the summit of Hfe, 
While glory unclouded shone round him, and regal enjoyment was rife — 
Shut out from his toils and his duties, condemned to ignoble repose, 
No longer to friends a true helper, no longer a scourge to his foes ! 
He, the strong-handed smiter of champions, the piercer of armor and shields. 
The foremost in earth-shaking onsets, the last out of blood-sodden fields — 
The mildest, the kmdest, the gayest, when revels ran high in his hall — 
Oh. well might his true hearted people feel gloomy and sad for his fall ! 

rv 

The princes, the chieftains, the nobles, who met to consult at his board, 
Whispered low when their talk was of combats, and wielding the spear and the 

sword : 
The bards from their harps feared to waken the full-pealing sweetness of song. 
To give homage to valor or beauty, or praise to the wise and the strong ; 
The flash-of no joy-giving story made cheers or gay laughter resound, 
Amidst silence constrained and unwonted the seldom-filled wine-cup went round : 
And, sadder to all who remembered the glories and joys that had been, 
The heart-swaying presence of woman not once shed its light on the scene. 



He knew it, he felt it, and sorrow sunk daily more deep in his heart ; 

He wearied of doleful inaction, from all his loved labors apart. 

He sat at his door in the sunlight, sore grieving and weeping to see 

The life and the motion around him, and nothing so stricken as he. 

Above him the eagle went wheeHng, before him the deer galloped by. 

And the quick-legged rabbits went skipping from green glades and burrows a-nigh. 

The song-birds sang out from the copses, the bees passed on musical wing, 

And all things were happy and busy, save Conor Mac Xessa the king ! 



So years had passed over, when, sitting midst silence like that of the tomb, 
A terror crept through him as sudden the noonlight was blackened with gloom. 
One red flare of lightning blazed brightly, illuming the landscape around, 
One thunder-peal roared through the mountains, and rumbled and crashed un- 
derground ; 
He heard the rocks bursting asunder, the trees tearing up by the roots, 
And loud through the horrid confusion the howling of terrified brutes. 
From the halls of his tottering palace came screamings of terror and pain, 
And he saw crowding thickly around him the ghosts of the foes he had slain ! 

VII. 
And as soon as the sudden commotion that shuddered through nature had ceaseJ, 
The king sent for Barach, his druid, and said : " Tell me truly, O priest, 
What magical arts have created this scene of wild horror and dread ? 
What has blotted the blue sky above us, and shaken the earth that we tread ? 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 37 

Are the gods that we worship offended ? what crime or what wrong has been done ? 
Has the fault been committed in Erin, and how may their favor be won ? 
What rites may avail to appease them ? what gifts on their altars should smoke ? 
Only say, and the offering demanded we lay by your consecrate oak." 

VIII. 

" O king," said the white-bearded druid, " the truth unto me has been shown, 

There lives but cm God, the Eternal ; far up in high Heaven is His throne. 

He looked upon men with compassion, and sent from His kingdom of light 

His Son, in the shape of a mortal, to teach them and guide them aright. 

Near the time of your birth, O King Conor, the Saviour of mankind was born, 

And since then in the kingdoms far eastward He taught, toiled, and prayed, till this 

morn. 
When wicked men seized Him, fast bound Him with nails to a cross, lanced His side, 
And that moment of gloom and confusion was earth's cry of dread when He died. 

IX. 

" O king, He was gracious and gentle, His heart was all pity and love. 

And for men He was ever beseeching the grace of his Father abjve ; 

He helped them, He healed them, He blessed them. He labored that all might 

attain 
To the true God's high kingdom of glory, where never comes sorrow or pain ; 
But they rose in their pride and their folly, their hearts filled with merciless rage, 
That only the sight of His life-blood fast poured from His heart could assuage : 
Yet while on the cross-beams uplifted, His body racked, tortured, and riven, 
He prayed — not for justice or vengeance, but asked that His foes be forgiven." 

X. 

With a bound from his seat rose King Conor, the red flush of rage on his face. 
Fast he ran through the hall for his weapons, and snatching his sword from its place, 
He rushed to the woods, strikeing wildly at boughs that dropped down with each blow. 
And he cried : " Were I midst the vile rabble, I'd cleave them to earth even so ! 
With the strokes of a high king of Erinn, the whirls of my keen-tempered sword, 
I would save from their horrible fury that mild and that merciful Lord." 
His frame shook and heaved with emotion ; the brain ball leaped forth from his head, 
And commending his soul to that Saviour, King Conor Mac Nessa fell dead. 



38 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 



VI.— THE '• GOLDEN AGE " OF PRE-CHRISTIAN ERINN. 



f^CYj S earl}' as the reign of Ard-ri Cormac the First — the 
^IXl first years of the third century — the Christian faith 
Gpt V had penetrated into Ireland. Probably in the cora- 
"r^^ mercial intercourse between the Irish and continental 
ports, some Christian converts had been made amongst 
the Irish navigators or merchants. Some historians think the 
monarch himself, Cormac, towards the close of life adored the 
true God, and attempted to put down druidism. " His reign," 
says Mr. Havert}', the historian, " is generally looked upon as 
the brightest epoch in the entire history of pagan Ireland. 
He established three colleges ; one for War, one for History, 
and the third for Jurisprudence. He collected and remodelled 
the laws, and published the code which remained in force un- 
til the English invasion (a period extending beyond fiiue ]iun- 
drcd years), and outside the English Pale for many centuries 
after ! He assembled the bards and chroniclers at Tara, and 
directed them to collect the annals of Ireland, and to write 
out the records of the countr}^ from year to year, making 
them synchronize with the history of other countries, by col- 
lating events with the reigns of contemporary foreign poten- 
tates , Cormac himself having been the inventor of this kind of 
chronology. These annals formed what is called the ' Psalter 
of Tara,' which also contained full details of the bounderies 
of provinces, districts, and small divisions of land throughout 
Ireland ; but unfortunately this great record has been lost, no 
vestige of it being now, it is believed, in existence. The 
magnificence of Cormac's palace at Tara was commensurate 
with the greatness of his power and the brilliancy of his actions ; 
and he fitted out a fleet which he sent to harass the shores of 
Alba or Scotland, until that country also was compelled to 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 39 

acknowledge him as sovereign. He wrote a book or tract 
called Teaguscna-Ri, or the ' Institutions of a Prince,' which is 
still in existence, and which contains admirable maxims on 
manners, morals, and government." This illustrious sover- 
eign died A. D. 266, at Cleitach, on the Boyne, a salmon bone, 
it is said, having fastened in his throat while dining, and defied 
all efforts of extrication. He was buried at Ross-na-ri, the 
first of the pagan monarchs for many generations who was 
not interred at Brugh, the famous burial place of the pre- 
Christian kings. A vivid tradition relating the circumstances 
of his burial has been very beautifully versified by Dr. Fergu- 
son in his poem, " The Burial of King Cormac": 

" Crom Cruach and his sub-gods twelve," 

Said Cormac ' ' are but craven treene ; 
The axe that made them, haft or helve, 

Had worthier of our worship been : 

But He who made the tree to grow, 

And hid in earth the iron-stone, 
And made the man with mind to know 
The axe's use, is God alone." 

The druids hear of this fearful speech and are horrified : 

Anon to preists of Crom was brought 

(Where girded in their service dread 
They ministered on red Moy Slaught) — • 

Word of the words King Cormac said. 

They loosed their curse against the king. 

They cursed him in his flesh and bones, 
And daily in their mystic ring 

They turned the maledictive stones. 

At length one day comes the news to them that the king is 
dead, " choked upon the food he ate " and they exultantly sound 
" the praise of their avenging God." Cormac, before he dies, 
however, leaves as his last behest a direction that he shall not 
be interred in the old pagan cemetery of the kings at Brugh, 
but at Ross-na-ri : 

But ere the voice was wholly spent 

That priest and prince should still obey. 
To awed attendants o'er him bent 

Great Cormac gathered breath tosay : 



40 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

" Spread not the beds of Brugh for me, 

When restless death-bed's use is done ; 
Eut bury me at Ross-na-ree, 
And face me to the rising sun. 

For all the kings who lie in Brugh 

Put trust in gods of wood and stone ; 
And 't was at Ross that first I knew 

One Unseen, who is God alone. 

His glory lightens from the east, 

His message soon shall reach our shore, 
And idol-god and cursing priest 

Shall plague us from Moy Slaught no more." 

King- Cormac dies, and his people one and all are shocked 
at the idea of burying him anywhere save in the ancient pagan 
cemetery where all his great forefathers repose. They agree 
that he must have been raving when he desired otherwise ; 
and they decide to bury him in Brugh, where his grandsire, 
Connof the Hundred Battles, lies armor-clad, upright, hound 
at foot and spear in hand : 

Dead Cormac on his bier they laid : 

" He reigned a king for forty years ; 
And shame it were," his captains said, 

" He lay not with his royal peers : 

His grandsire, Hundred Battles, sleeps 

Serene in Brugh, and all around 
Dead kings, in stone sepulchral keeps, 

Protect the sacred burial ground. 

What though a dying man should rave 

Of changes o'er the eastern sea. 
In Brugh of Boyne shall be his grave, 

And not in noteless Ros-na-ree." 

Then northward forth they bore the bier, 

And down from Sleithac's side they drew 
\Vith horseman and with charioteer, 

To cross the fords of Boyne to Brugh, 

Suddenly " a breath of finer air" touches the river "with 
rustling wings." 

And as the burial train came down 

With dirge, and savage dolorous shows. 
Across their pathway broad and brown. 

The deep full-hearted river rose. 



TEE STORY OF IRELAND. 41 

From bank to bank through all his fords, 
' 'Neath blackening squalls he swelled and boiled, 

And thrice the wond'ring gentile lords 
Essay'd to cross and thrice recoii'd. 

Then forth stepped gray-haired warriors four ; 

They said : "Through angrier floods than these. 
On link'd shield once our king we bore 

From Dread-spear and the hosts of Deece ; 

And long as loyal will holds good, 

And limbs respond with helpful thews, 
Nor flood nor fiend within the flood 

Shall bar him of his burial dues." 

So they lift the bier, and step into the boiling surge. 

And now they slide and now they swim, . 

And now amid the blackening squall. 
Gray locks afloat with clutchings grim, 

They plunge around the floating pall. 

While as a youth with practised spear 
Through justling crowds bears oft" the ring — 

Boyne from their shoulders caught the bier, 
And proudly bare away the King ! 

The foaming torrent sweeps the coffin away ; next day it is 
found far down the river, stranded on the bank under Ross-na- 
ri ; the last behest of Cormac is fulfilled after all ! 

At morning on the grassy marge 

Of Ross-na-ree the corpse was found, 
And shepherds at their early charge, 

Entombed it in the peaceful ground. 

# * # » 

And life and time rejoicing run ; 

From age to age their wonted way ; 
But still he waits the risen Sun, 

For still 't is only dawning Day, 

In the two centuries succeeding, there flourished among other 
sovereigns of Ireland less known to fame, the celebrated Niall 
of the Nine Hostages, and King Dahi.* During these two hun- 
dred years the flag of Ireland waved through continental Europe 



This was a sobriquet. His real name was Feredach the Second. 



42 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

over victorious egions and fleets ; the Irish monarchs leading 
powerful armies across the plains of Gaul, and up to the very 
confines of " the Ceasars' domains " in Italy. It was the day 
of Ireland's military power in Europe ; a day which subsequent- 
ly waned so disastrously, and, later on, set in utter gloom. 
Neighboring Britain, whose yoke a thousand years subse- 
quently Ireland was to wear, then lay helpless and abject at the 
mercy of the Irish hosts ; the Britons, as history relates, abso- 
lutely weeping and wailing at the departure of the enslaving 
Roman legions, because now there would be naught to stay 
the visits of the Scoti, or Irish, and the Picts ! The courts of 
the Irish princes and homes of the Irish nobility were filled 
with white slave attendants, brought from abroad, some from 
Gaul, but the most from Anglia. It was in this way the 
youthful Patricius, or Patrick, was brought a slave into Ireland 
from Gaul. As the power of Imperial Rome began to pale, 
and theoutlyinglegions were beingevery year drawn in nearer 
and nearer to the great city itself, the Irish sunburst blazed 
over the scene, and the retreating Romans found the cohorts 
of Erinn pushing dauntlessly and vengefully on their track. 
Although the Irish chronicles of the period themselves say 
little of the deeds of the armies abroad, the continental records 
of the time give us pretty full insight into the part they play- 
ed on the European stage in that day.f Niall of the Nine 
Hostages met his death in Gaul, on the banks of the Loire, 
while leading his armies in one of those campaigns. The 
death of King Dahi, who was killed by lightning at the foot 
of the Alps while marching at the head of his legions, one 
cf our national poets, Davis, has immortalized in a poem, from 
which I quote here : — 

t Haverty the historian says :" It is in the verses of the Latin poet Claudian that we 
read of the sending of troops by Stilichio, the general of Theodosius the Great to 
repel the Scottish hosts led by the brave and adventurous Niall. One of the passages 
of Claadian thus referred to is that in which the poet says : 

' Totam cum Srotus lernent 
Mcnn'f, cf infcsto sputitavit rcmige Teihys.' 

That is, as translated in Gibson's Camden : 

" ' When Scots came thundering from the Irish shores 
The ocean trembled, struck with hostile oars." " 



THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 43 

Darkly their glibs o'erhang, , 
Sharp is their wolf-dog's fang, 
Bronze spear and falchion clang — 

Brave men might shun them ! 
Heavy the spoil they bear- 
Jewels and gold are there — 
Hostage and maiden fair — 

How have they won them ? 

From the soft sons of Gaul, 
Roman, and Frank, and thrall, 
Borough, and hut, and hall, — 

These have been torn. 
Over Britannia wide, 
Over fair Gaul they hied, 
Often in battle tried, — 

Enemies mourn ! 
» * * * ♦ 

Up on the glacier's snow, 
Down on the vales below, 
Monarch and clansmen go — 

Bright is the morning. 
Never their march they slack. 
Jura is at their back, 
When falls the evening black. 

Hideous, and warning. 

Eagles scream loud on high ; 
Far off the chamois fly ; 
Hoarse comes the torrent's cry, 

On the rocks whitening. 
Strong are the storm's wings ; 
Down the tall pine it flings ; 
Hail-stone and sleet it brings 

Thunder and lightning. 

Little these veterans mind 
Thundering hail, or wind ; 
Closer their ranks they bind — 

Matching the storm. 
While, a spear-cast or more. 
On, the first ranks before, 
Dathi the sunburst bore — 

Haughty his form. 

Forth from the thunder-cloud 
Leaps out a foe as proud — 
Sudden the monarch bowed — 

On rush the vanguard; 



4A THE STORY OP IRELAND. 

Wildly the king they raise — 
Struck by the lightning's blaze — 
Ghastly his dying gaze, 

Clutching his standard ! 

Mild is the morning beam, 
Gently the rivers stream, 
Happy the valleys seem ; 

But the lone islanders — 
Mark how they guard their king ! 
Hark, to the wail they sing ! 
Dark is their counseUing — 

Helvetia's highlanders 

Gather like ravens, near — 
Shall Dathi's soldiers fear ? 
Soon their home-path they clear — 

Rapid and daring ; 
On through the pass and plain, 
Until the shore they gain. 
And, with their spoil, again 

Landed in Eirinn. 

. Little does Eire care 
For gold or maiden fair — . , . , 
" Where is king Dathi ? — where, 

Where is my bravest ?" 
On the rich deck he hes. 
O'er him his sunburst flies 
Solemn the obsequies, 

Eire ! thou gavest. 

See ye that countless train 
Crossing Ros-Comain's plain, 
Crying, like hurricane, 

Uile liu ai ? 
Broad is his cairn s base — 
Nigh the " King's burial place'', 
Last of the Pagan race, 
Lieth King Dathi ! 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 45 



VIL — HOW IRELAND RECEIVED THE CHRISTIAN FAITH. 

.A 

'^^^ O these foreign expeditions Ireland was destined to be 




indebted for her own conquest by the spirit of Chris- 
tianity. As I have alread}- mentioned, in one of the 
military excursions of King Niall the First into Gaul, 
he captured and brought to Ireland amongst other white 
slaves, Patricius a Romano-Gallic youth of good quality, and 
his sisters Darerca and Lupita. The story of St. Patrick's 
bondage in Ireland, of his miraculous escape, his entry into 
holy orders, his vision of Ireland — in which he thought he 
heard cries of a multitude of people, entreating him to come 
to them in Erinn — his long studies under St. Germain, and 
eventually his determination to undertake in an especial man- 
ner the conversion of the Irish, will all be found in any Irish 
Church History or Life of St. Patrick.* Having received the 
sanction and benediction of the holy pontiff Pope Celestine,and 
having been consecrated bishop, St. Patrick, accompanied by 
a few chosen priests, reached Ireland in 432. Christianity 
had been preached in Ireland long before St. Patrick's time. 
In 431 St. Palladius, Archdeacon of Rome, was sent by Pope 
Celestine as a bishop to the Christians in Ireland. These, 
however, were evidently but few in number, and worshipped 
onlv in fear or secrecy. The attempt to preach the faith 
openly to the people was violently suppressed, and St. Pal- 
ladius sailed from Ireland. St. Patrick and his missioners 
landed on the spot where now stands the fashionable watering 



* My young readers will find this glorious chapter in our religious annals, related 
with great simplicity, beauty, and truth, in a little publication called, '' St. Patrick's: 
Iiow it was restored," by the Rev. James Gaffney, of the diocese of Dublin, whose 
admirable volume on " The Ancient Irish Church", as well as the Rev. S. Malone's 
" Church History of Ireland", will be found invaluable to students. 



■±6 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

place called Bray, near Dublin. The hostility of the Lagenian 
prince and people compelled him to reembark. He sailed 
northwards, touching at Innis- Patrick near Skerries, county 
Dublin, and eventually landed at Magh Innis, in Strangford 
Lough. 

Druidism would appear to have been the form of paganism 
then prevailing in Ireland, though even then some traces re- 
mained of a still more ancient idol-worship, probably dating 
from the time of the Tuatha de Danaans, two thousand years 
before. St. Patrick, however, found the Irish mind much 
better prepared, by its comparative civilization and refinement 
to receive the truths of Christianity, than that of any other 
nation in Europe outside imperial Rome. The Irish were 
always — then as they are now — preeminently a reverential 
people, and thus were peculiarl}^ susceptible of religious 
truth. St. Patrick's progress through the island was marked 
by success from the outset. Tradition states that, expound- 
ing the doctrine of the Holy Trinity, he used a little sprig of 
trefoil, or three-leaved grass, whence the Shamrock comes 
to be the National Emblem, as St. Patrick is the National 
Saint or Patron of Ireland. 

Ard-Ri Laori* was holding a druidical festival in Tara, at 
which the kindling of a great fire formed a chief feature of the 
proceedings, and it was a crime punishable with death for 
any one to light a fire in the surrounding country on the 
evening of that great festival, until the sacred flame on Tara 
Hill blazed forth. To his amazement, however, the monarch 
beheld on the Hill of Slane, visible from Tara, a bright fire 
kindled early in the evening. This was the Paschal fire which 
St. Patrick and his missionaries had lighted, for it was Holy 
Saturday. The king sent for the chief druid, and pointed 
out to him on the distant horizon the flickering beam that so 
audaciously violated the sacred laws. The archpriest gazed 
long and wistfully at the spot, and eventually answered : " O 
king, there is indeed a flame lighted on yonder hill, which, if 



lA05A'ft3 (pronounced Laori j the Second. He was son of Niul the First. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 47 

it be 7iot piU out to-night will never be quencJied in Erinn.'' Much 
disquieted by this oracular answer, Laori directed that the 
offenders, whoever they might be, should be instantly brought 
before him for punishment. St. Patrick, on being arrested,, 
arrayed himself in his vestments, and, crozier in hand, march- 
ed boldly at the head of his captors, reciting aloud as he went 
along, a litany which is still extant, in which he invoked, "on 
that momentous day for Erinn," the Holy Trinity, the Father, 
the Son, and the Holy Spirit, ever Blessed Mary the Mother 
of God, and tne saints around the throne of heaven. Having 
arrived before the king and his assembled courtiers and dru- 
idical high priests, St. Patrick, undismayed, proclaimed to 
them that he had come to quench the fires of pagan sacrifice 
in Ireland, and light the flame of Christian faith. The king 
listened amazed and angered, yet no penalty fell on Patrick. 
On the contrary, he made several converts on the spot, and 
the sermon and controversy in the king's presence proved an 
nuspicious beginning for the glorious mission upon which he 
had just entered. 

It would fill a large volume to chronicle the progress of the 
saint through the island. Before his death, though only a 
few of the reigning princes had embraced the faith (for many 
years subsequently pagan kings ruled the country) the good 
seeds had been sown far and wide, and were thriving apace, and 
the cross had been raised throughout Ireland, " from the 
centre to the sea." Ours was the only country in Europe, it 
is said, bloodlessly converted to the faith. Strictly speaking 
only one martyr suffered death for the evangelization of Ire- 
land, and death in this instance had been devised for the saint 
himself. While St. Patrick was returning from Munster a 
pagan chieftain formed a design to murder him. The plan 
came to the knowledge of Odran, the faithful charioteer of 
Patrick, who, saying nought of it to him, managed to change 
seats with the Saint, and thus received himself the fatal blow 
intended for his master. 

Another authentic anecdote may be mentioned here. At 
the baptism of Aengus, King of Mononia or Munster, St. Pat- 
rick accidentally pierced through the sandal-covered foot of 



48 THE STOKY OF lEELAND. 

the king with his pastoral staff,* which terminated in an iron 
spike, and which it was the Saint's custom to strike into the 
ground by his side, supporting himself more or less thereby, 
while preaching or baptising. The king bore the wound 
without wincing, until the ceremony was over, when St. Pat- 
rick with surprise and pain beheld the ground covered with 
blood, and observed the cause. Being questioned by the 
Saint as to why he did not cry out, Aengus replied, that he 
thougJit it was part of the ceremony, to represent, though faini- 
ly, the wounds our Lord had borne for man's redemption. 

[n the year of our Lord 493, on the 17th of March — which 
day is celebrated as his feast by the Catholic Church and by 
the Irish nation at home and in exile — St. Patrick departed 
this life in his favourite retreat of Saul, in the county of 
Down, where his body was interred. " His obsequies," say 
the old annalists, " continued for twelve days, during which 
the light of innumerable tapers seemed to turn night into 
day; and the bishops and priests of Ireland congregated on 
the occasion." 

Several of the saint's compositions, chiefly prayers and 
litanies, are extant. They are full of the most powerful in- 
vocations of the saints, and in all other particulars are exactly 
such prayers and express such doctrines as are taught in cur 
own day in the unchanged and unchangeable Catholic 
Church. 



' " The staff of Jesus" is the name by which the crozier of St. Patrick is always 
mentioned in the earliest of our annals ; a well preserved tradition asserting it to have 
been a rood or staff which our Lord carried. It was brought by St. Patrick from 
Rome when setting forth by the authority of Pope Celestine to evangelize Ireland. 
This staff was treasured as one of the most precious relics on Irish soil for more than 
one M<7Mj-ff«r/_j/^(7rj-, and was an object of special veneration. It was sacrilegiously 
destroyed in the reign of Henry the Eighth by one of Henry's " reforming" bishops, 
who writes to the king boasting of the deed ! 




DEATH OF KING DAHI. 



See pages 42, 43. 



THE STOPiY OF IKELAND. 51 




VIII. — A RETROSPECTIVE GLANCE AT PAGAN IRELAND. 

E have now, my dear young friends, arrived at a mem- 
orable point in Irish history ; we are about to pass from 
pagan Ireland to Christian Ireland. Before doing so, 
it may be well that I should tell you something about 
matters which require a few words apart from the 
narrative of events which I have been relating for 
Let us pause, and take a glance at the country and 
the people, at the manners and customs, laws and institutions 
of our pagan ancestors. 

The geographical subdivisions of the country varied in 
successive centuries. The chief subdivision, the designations 
of which are most frequently used by the ancient chroniclers, 
was effected by a line drawn from the hill or ridge on the 
south bank of the Liffey, on the eastern end of which the 
castle of Dublin is built, running due west to the peninsula of 
Marey, at the head of Galway Bay. The portion of Ireland 
south of this line was called Leah Moha (" Moh Nua's half") ; 
the portion to the north of it Leah Cuinn {" Conn's half"). 
As these names suggest, this division of the island was first 
made between two princes. Conn of the Hundred battles, and 
Moh Nua, or Eoghan Mor, otherwise Eugene the Great, the 
former being the head or chief representative of the Milesian 
families decended from Ir, the latter the head of those decend- 
ed from Heber. Though the primary object of this partition 
was achieved but for a short time, the names thus given to 
the two territories are found in use, to designate the northern 
and southern halves of Ireland, for a thousand years sub- 
sequently. 

Within these there were smaller subdivisions. The ancient 
names of the four provinces into which Ireland is still divided 
were, Mononia (Munster), Dalaradia, or Ulidia (Ulster), 
Lagenia (Leinster), and Conacia, or Conact (Connaught). 



52 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

Asrain, Mononia was subdivided into Thomond and Desmond 
i.e., north and south Munster. Besides these names, the 
territory or district possessed by ever}' sept or clan had a 
designation of its own. 

The chief palaces of the Irish kings, whose splendors are 
celebrated in Irish history, were: the palace of Emania, in 
Ulster, founded or built by Macha, queen of Cinbaeth the 
First (pronounced Kimbahe), about the year B.C. 700; Tara 
in Meath ; Cruachan, in Conact, built by Queen Maeve, the 
beautiful, albeit Amazonian, Queen of the West, about the 
year B.C. 100; Aileach, in Donegal, built on the site of an 
ancient Sun-temple, or Tuatha de Danaan fort-palace. 

Kincora had not at this period an existence, nor had it for 
some centuries subsequentl}". It was never more than the 
local residence, a palatial castle, of Brian Boruma. It stood 
on the spot where now stands the town of Killaloe. 

Emania, next to Tara the most celebrated of all the royal 
palaces of Ancient Erinn, stood on the spot now marked by a 
large rath called the Navan Fort, two miles to the west of 
Armagh. It was the residence of the Ulster kings for a 
period of 855 years. 

The mound or Grianan of Aileach, upon which, even for 
hundreds of years after the destruction of the palace, the 
O'Donnells were elected, installed, or " inaugurated," is still 
an object of wonder and curiosity. It stands on the crown 
of a low hill by the shores of Lough Swilly, about five miles 
from Londonderry. 

Royal Tara has been crowned with an imperishable fame 
in song and story. The entire crest and slopes of Tara Hill 
were covered with buildings at one time ; for it was not alone 
a royal palace, the residence of the Ard-Ri (or High king) of 
Erinn, but, moreover, the legislative chambers, the militar}'- 
buildings, the law courts, and ro3-al universities that stood 
Thereupon. Of all these, naught now remains but the moated 
mounds or raths that mark where stood the halls within which 
bard and warrior, ruler and lawgiver, once assembled in 
glorious pageant. 

Of the orders of knighthood, or companionships of valor 



THE STORY OF IRELAKD. 



53 



and chivalry, mentioned in pagan Irish history, the two prin- 
cipal were : the Knights of the (Craev Rua, or) Red Branch 
of Emania, and the Clanna Morna, or Damnonian Knights of 
lorras. The former were a Dalaradian, the lattter a Conacian 
body ; and, test the records how we may, it is incontrovertible 
that no chivalric institutions of modern times eclipsed in 
knightly valor and romantic daring those warrior companion- 
ships of ancient Erinn. \ 

Besides these orders of knighthood, several military legions 
figure familiarly and prominently in Irish history ; but the 
most celebrated of them all, the Dalcassians — one of the most 
brave and " glory-crowned" bodies of which there is record 
in ancient or modern times — did not figure in Irish history 
until long after the commencement of the Christian era. 

The Fianna Eirion, or National Militia of Erinn, I have 
already mentioned. This celebrated enrolment had the ad- 
vantage of claiming within its own ranks a warrior-poet, Os- 
sian (son of the commander Fin), whose poems, taking for 
their theme invariably the achievements and adventures of 
the Fenian host, or of its chiefs, have given to it a lasting 
fame. According to Ossian, there never existed upon the 
earth another such force of heroes as the Fianna Eirion ; and 
the feats he attributes to them were of course unparalleled. 
He would have us believe there were no taller, straighter, 
stronger, braver, bolder men in all Erinn, than his Fenian 
comrades ; and with the recital of their deeds he mixes up the 
wildest romance and fable. What is strictly true of them is, 
that at one period undoubtedly they were a splendid national 
force ; but ultimately they became a danger rather than a 
protection to the kingdom, and had to be put down by the 
regular army in the reign of king Carbri the Second, who 
encountered and destroyed them finally on the bloody battle 
field of Gavra, about the year A.D, 280. • 

Ben Eder, now called the Hill of Howth, near Dublin, was 
the camp or exercise ground of the Fianna Eirion when called 
out annually for training. 

The laws of pagan Ireland, which were collected and 
codified in the reign of Cormac the First, and which prevailed 



54 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

throughout the kingdom as long subsequently as a vestige of 
native Irish regal authority remained — a space of nearly 
fifteen hundred years — are, even in this present age, exciting 
considerable attention amongst legislators and savans. A 
royal commission — the "Brehon Laws Commission" — appoint- 
ed by the British government in the year 1856 (chiefly owing 
to the energetic exertions of Rev. Dr. Graves and Rev. Dr. 
Todd, of Trinity College, Dublin), has been laboring at their 
translation, parliament voting an annual sum to defray the 
expenses. Of course only portions of the original manuscripts 
are now in existence, but even these portions attest the 
marvellous wisdom and the profound justness of the ancient 
Milesian Code, and give us a high opinion of Irish juris- 
prudence two thousand years ago! 

The Brehon Laws Commission published their first vol- 
ume, the " Seanchus Mor," in 1865, and a most interesting 
publication it is. Immediately on the establishment of 
Christianity in Ireland a royal commission of tJiat day was 
appointed to revise the statute laws of Erinn, so that they 
might be purged of everything applicable only to a pagan 
nation and inconsistent with the pure doctrines of Christian- 
ity. On this commission, we are told, there were appointed 
by the Irish monarch three chief Brehons or judges, three 
Christian bishops, and three territorial chiefs or viceroys. 
The result of their labors was presented to the Irish parlia- 
ment of Tara, and being duly confirmed, the code thenceforth 
became known as the Seanchus Mor. 

From the earliest age the Irish appear to have been ex- 
tremely fond of games, athletic sports, and displays of prowess 
or agility. Amongst the royal and noble families chess was 
the chief domestic game. There are indubitable proofs that it 
was played amongst the princes of Erinn two thousand years 
ago ; and the oldest bardic chants and verse-histories mention 
the gold and jewel inlaid chessboards of the kings. 

Of the passionate attachment of the Irish to music, little 
need be said, as this is one of the national characteristics which 
has been at all times most strongly marked, and is now most 
widely appreciated ; the harp being universally emblazoned 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 



as a national emblem of Ireland. Even in the pre-Christian 
period we are here reviewmg, music was an " mstitution" and 
a power in Erinn. 



IX.— CHRISTIAN IRELAND. THE STORY OF COLUMBA, THE 
" DOVE OF THE CELL." 




HE five hundred years, one- 
half of which preceded the 
birth of our Lord, may be 
considered the period ot 
Ireland's greatest power 
military glory as a nation, 
five hundred years which suc- 
;ded St. Patrick's mission may 
be regarded as the period of Ire- 
land's Christian and Scholastic fame. In the former she sent 
her warriors, in the latter her missionaries, all over Europe. 
Where her fierce hero-kings carried the sword, her saints 
now bore the cross of faith. It was in this latter period, be- 
tween the sixth and the eighth centuries particularly, that Ire- 
land became known all over Europe as the Insula Sanctorum ct 
Doctorujn—'' the, Island of Saints and Scholars." 

Churches, cathedrals, monasteries, convents, universities, 



56 THE STORY OF IKELAND. 

covered the island. From even the most distant parts of 
Europe, kings and their subjects came to study in the Irish 
schools. King Alfred of Northumberland was educated in 
one of the Irish universities. A glorious roll of Irish saints 
and scholars belong to this period : St. Columba or Colum- 
cille, St. Columbanus, St. Gall, who evangelized Helvetia, St. 
Frigidian, who was bishop of Lucca in Italy, St. Livinus, who 
was martyred in Flanders, St. Argobast, who became bishop 
of Strasburg, St. Killian, the apostle of Franconia, and quite 
a host of illustrious Irish missionaries, who carried the bless- 
ings of faith and education all over Europe. The record of 
their myriad adventurous enterprises, their glorious labors, 
their evangelizing conquests, cannot be traced within the 
scope of this book. There is one, however, the foremost of 
that sainted band, with whom exception must be made — the 
first and the greatest of Irish missionary saints, the abbot of 
lona's isle, whose name and fame filled the world, and the 
stor}"- of whose life is a Christian romance — Columba, the 
"Dove of the Cell."* 

The personal character of Columba and the romantic inci- 
dents of his life, as well as his preeminence amangst the mis- 
sionary conquerors of the British Isles, seem to have had a 
powerful attraction for the illustrious Montalembert, who, in 
his great work, " The Monks of the West," traces the eventful 
career of the saint in language of exquisite beauty, eloquence 
and feeling. Moreover, there is this to be said further of that 
Christian romance, as I have called it, the life of St. Columba, 
that happily the accounts thereof which we possess are com- 
plete, authentic, and documentary ; most of the incidents re- 
lated we have on the authority of well known writers, who 
lived in Columba's time and held personal co-mmunication 
with him or with his companions. 

The picture presented to us in these life-portraitures of 
lona's saint is assuredly one to move the hearts of Irishmen 
young and old. In Columba two great features stand out in 
bold prominence; and never perhaps were those twocharac- 

* ColurnClUe, or ColumbkUle; in English, " Dove of the Cell". 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. • 57 

teristics more powerfully developed in one man — devotion to 
God and passionate love of country. He was a great saint, 
but he was as great a " politician," entering deeply and 
warmly into everything affecting the weal of Clan Nial, or 
the honor of Erinn. His love for Ireland was something be- 
yond description. As he often declared in his after-life exile, 
the very breezes that blew on the fair hills of holy Ireland 
were to him like the zephyrs of paradise. Our story were 
incomplete indeed, without a sketch, however brief, of " the 
Dove of the Cell." 

Columba* was a prince of the royal race of Nial, his father 
being the third in descent from the founder of that illustrious 
house, Nial of the Nine Hostages. He was born at Gartan, 
in Donegal, on the 7th December, 521. " The Irish legends," 
says Montalembert, " which are always distinguished, even 
amidst the wildest vagaries of fancy, by a high and pure mo- 
rality, linger lovingly upon the childhood and youth of the 
predestined saint." Before his birth (according to one of 
these traditions) the mother of Columba had a dream, " which 
posterity has accepted as a graceful and poetical symbol of 
her son's career. An angel appeared to her, bringing her a 
veil covered with flowers of wonderful beauty, and the sweet- 
est variety of colors ; immediately after she saw the veil car- 
ried away by the wind, and rolling out as it fled over the 
plains, woods, and mountains. Then the angel said to her, 
' Thou art about to become the mother of a son, who shall 
blossom for Heaven, who shall be reckoned among the pro- 
phets of God, and who shall lead numberless souls to the 
heavenly country.' " 

But indeed, according to the legends of the Hy Nial, the 
coming of their great saint was foretold still more remotely. 
St. Patrick, they tell us, having come northward to bless the 
territory and people, was stopped at the Daol — the modern 
Deel or Burndale river — by the breaking of his chariot wheels. 
The chariot was repaired, but again broke down ; a third time 
it was refitted, and a third time it failed at the ford. Then 

* His name was OtiITTICIIATIII pronounced Creivan or Creivhan. 



58 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

Patrick, addressing those around him, said : " Wonder no 
more : behold, the land from this stream northwards needs 
no blessing from me ; for a son shall be born there who shall 
be called the Dove of the Churches ; and he shall bless that 
land , in honor of whom God has this day prevented my 
doing so." The name Ath-an-Charpaid (ford-of the chariot) 
marks to this day the spot memorized by this tradition. 
Count Montalembert cites many of these stories of the " child- 
hood and youth of the predestined saint." He was, while 
yet a child, confided to the care ol the priest who had bap- 
tized him, aud from him he received the first rudiments of 
education. " His guardian angel often appeared to him; and 
the child asked if all the angels in Heaven were so young and 
shining as he. A little later, Columba was invited by the same 
angel to choose among all the virtues that which he would 
like best to possess. 'I choose.' said the youth, 'chastity 
and wisdom ;' and immediately three young girls of wonder- 
ful beauty but foreign air, appeared to him, and threw them- 
selves on his neck to embrace him. The pious youth frowned, 
and repulsed them with indignation. ' What,' they said, ' then 
thou dost not know us ? ' ' No, not the least in the world.' 
' We are three sisters, whom our Father gives to thee to be 
thy brides.' ' Who, then, is your Father?' 'Our Father is 
God, He is Jesus Christ, the Lord and Saviour of the world.' 
' Ah, you have indeed an illustrious Father. But what are 
your names ? ' ' Our names are Virginity, Wisdom, and Pro- 
phecy ; and we come to leave thee no more, to love thee with 
an incorruptible love.' " 

From the house of this early tutor Columba "passed into 
the great monastic schools which were not only a nursery for 
the clergy of the Irish Church, but where also young laymen of 
all conditions were educated. " 

" While Columba studied at Clonard, being still only a dea- 
con, " says his biographer, " an incident took place which has 
been proved by authentic testimon}^ and which fixed general 
attention upon him by giving a first evidence of his superna- 
tural and prophetic intuition. An old Christian bard (the 
bards were not all Christians) named Germain had come to 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 59 

live near the Abbot Finnian, asking from him, in exchange 
for his poetry, the secret of fertiHzing the soil. Columba, 
who continued all his life a passionate admirer of the tradition- 
ary poetry of his nation, determined to join the school of the 
bard, and to share his labors and studies. The two were reading 
together out of doors, at a little distance from each other, 
when a young girl appeared in the distance pursued by a rob- 
ber. At the sight of the old man the fugitive made for him with 
all her remaining strength, hoping, no doubt, to find safety in 
the authority exercised throughout Ireland by the national 
poets. Germain, in great trouble, called his pupil to his aid to 
defend the unfortunate child, who was trying to hide herself un- 
der their long robes, when her pursuer reached the spot. With- 
out taking any notice of her defenders, he struck her in the 
neck with his lance, and was making off, leaving her dead at 
their feet. The horrified old man turned to Columba. ' How 
long,' he said ' will God leave unpunished this crime which 
dishonors us? ' ' For this moment only, ' said Columba, * not 
longer; at this very hour, when the soul of this innocent 
creature ascends to heaven, the soul of the murderer shall go 
down to hell.' At the instant, like Ananias at the words of Peter, 
the assassin fell dead. The news of this sudden punishment, 
the story goes, went over Ireland, and spread the fame of the 
young Columba far and wide. " 

At the comparatively early age of twenty-five, Columba had 
attained to a prominent position in the ecclesiastical world, and 
had presided over the creation of a crowd of monasteries. 
As many as thirty-seven in Ireland alone recognized him as 
their founder. "It is easy," says Montalembert, "to per- 
ceive, by the importance of the monastic establishments which 
he had brought into being, even before he had attained to man- 
hood, that his influence must have been as precocious as it was 
considerable. Apart from the virtues of which his after life 
afforded so many examples, it may be supposed that his roy- 
al birth gave him an irresistible ascendancy in a country 
where, since the introduction of Christianity, all the early 
saints, like the principal abbots, belonged to reigning families, 
and where the influence of blood and the worship of genealcgy 



CO THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

still continue, even to this day, to a degree unknown in other 
lands. Springing, as has been said, from the same race as the 
monarch of all Ireland, and consequently hirnself eligible for 
the same high office, which was more frequently obtained by 
election or usurpation than inheritance — nephew or near 
cousin of the seven monarchs who successively wielded the 
supreme authority during his life — he was also related by ties 
of blood to almost all the provincial kings. Thus we see him 
during his whole career treated on a footing of perfect intim- 
acy and equality by all the princes of Ireland and of Caledonia, 
and exercising a sort of spiritual sway equal or superior 
to the authorit)^ of secular sovereigns." 

His attachment to poetry and literature has been already 
glanced at. He was, in fact, an enthusiast on the subject ; he 
was himself a poet and writer of a high order of genius, and 
to an advanced period of his life remained an ardent devotee 
of the muse, ever powerfully moved by whatever affected the 
weal of the minstrel fraternity. His passion for books (all 
manuscript, of course, in those days, and of great rarity and 
value) was destined to lead him into that great offence of his life, 
which he was afterwards to expiate by a penance so grievous. 
"He went everywhere in search of volumes v/hich he could 
borrow or copy ; often experiencing refusals which he resented 
bitterly." In this way occurred what Montalembert calls " the 
decisive event which changed the destiny of Columba, and 
transformed him from a wandering poet and ardent book-worm, 
into a missionary and apostle." While visiting one of his for- 
mer tutors, Finian, he found means to copy clandestinely the 
abbot's Psalter by shutting himself up at nights in the church 
where the book was deposited. " Indignant at what he con- 
sidered as almost a theft, Finian claimed the copy when it was 
finished by Columba, on the ground that a copy made with- 
out permission ought to belong to the master of the original, 
seeing that the transcription is the son of the original book. 
Columba refused to give up his work, and the question was 
referred to the king in his palace of Tara." What immedi- 
ately follows, I relate in the words of Count Montalembert, 
summarizing or citing almost literally the ancient authors al- 
ready referred to : 



THE STOr.Y OF IRELAND. 61 

"King Diarmid, or Dermott, supreme monarch of Ireland, 
was, like Columba, descended from the great king Niall, but 
by another son than he whose great-grandson Columba was. 
He lived, like all the princes of his country, in a close union 
with the Church, which was represented in Ireland, more 
completely then anywhere else, by the monastic order. Exil- 
ed and persecuted in his youth, he had found refuge in an island 
situated in one of those lakes which interrupt the course of the 
Shannon, the chief river of Ireland, and had there formed a 
friendship with a holy monk called Kieran, a zealous comrade 
of Columba at the monastic school of Clonard, and since that 
time his generous rival in knowledge and in austerity. Upon 
the still solitary bank of the river the two friends had planned 
the foundation of a monastery, which, owing to the marshy 
nature of the soil, had to be built upon piles. ' Plant with me 
the first stake,' the monk said to the exiled prince, ' putting 
your hand under mine, and soon that hand shall be over all 
the men of Erinn;' and it happened that Diarmid was very 
shortly after called to the throne. He immediately used his 
new power to endow richly the monaster}^ which was render- 
ed doubly dear to him by the recollection of his exile and of 
his friend. This sanctuary became, under the name of Clon- 
macnoise, one of the greatest monasteries and most frequented 
schools of Ireland, and even of Western Europe. 

" This king might accordingly be regarded as a competent 
judge in a contest at once monastic and literary ; he might 
even have been suspected of partiality for Columba, his kins- 
man, — and yet he pronounced judgment against him. His 
judgment was given in a rustic phrase which has passed into 
a proverb in Ireland — To every cow her calf, and, consequent- 
ly, to every book its copy. Columba protested loudly. ' It is 
an unjust sentence,' he said, 'and I will revenge myself.' 
After this incident a 3'oung prince, son of the provincial 
king of Connaught, who was pursued for having commit- 
ted an involuntary murder, took refuge with Columba, but 
was seized and put to death by the king. The irritation 
of the poet-monk knew no bounds. The ecclesiastical im- 
munity which he enjo3'ed in his quality of superior and founder 



62 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

of several monasteries, ought to have, in his opinion, created 
a sort of sanctuary around his person, and this immunity had 
been scandalously violated by the execution of a youth whom he 
protected. He threatened the king with prompt vengeance. 
' I will denounce,' he said, 'to my brethren and my kindred 
thy wicked judgment, and the violation in my person of the 
immunity of the Church; they will listen to my complaint, 
and punish thee sword in hand. Bad king, thou shall no more 
see my face in thy province, until God, the just judge, has sub- 
dued thy pride. As thou has.humbled me to-day before thy 
lords and thy friends, God will humble thee on the battle-day 
before thine enemies. ' Diarmid attemped to retain him by 
force in the neighborhood ; but evading the vigilance of his 
guards, he escaped by night from the court of Tara, and di- 
rected his steps to his native province of Tyrconnell. 

" Columba arrived safely in his province, and immediately 
set to work to excite against king Diarmid the numerous and 
powerful clans of his relatives and friends, who belonged to a 
branch of the house of Niall, distinct from and hostile to that 
of the reigning monarch. His efforts were crowned with 
success. The Hy-Nialls of the north armed eagerly against 
the Hy-Nialls of the south, of whom Diarmid was the special 
chief. 

" Diarmid marched to meet them, and they met in battle 
at Cool Drewny, or Cul-Dreimhne, upon the borders of Ul- 
tonia and Connacia. He was completely beaten, and was 
obliged to take refuge at Tara. The victory was due, accord- 
ing to the annalist Tigliernach, to the prayers and songs of 
Columba, who had fasted and prayed with all his might to ob- 
tain from Heaven the punishment of the royal insolence, and 
who, besides, was present at the battle, and took upon himself 
before all men the responsibility of the bloodshed. 

" As for the manuscript which had been the object of this 
strange conflict of copyright elevated into a civil war, it was 
afterwards venerated as a kind of national, military and relig- 
ious palladium. Under the name of Cathach or Fightu, the 
Latin Psalter transcribed by Columba, enshrined in a sort of 
portable altar, became the national relic of the O'Donnell 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. . 63 

clan. For more than a thousand years it was carried with 
them to battle as a pledge of victory, on the condition of being 
supported on the breast of a clerk free from all mortal sin. 
It has escaped as by miracle from the ravages of which Ire- 
land has been the victim, and exists still, to the great joy of 
all learned Irish patriots." * 

But soon a terrible punishment was to fall upon Columba 
for this dread violence. He, an anointed priest of the Most 
High, a minister of the Prince of Peace, had made himself the 
cause and the inciter of a civil war, which had bathed the 
land in blood — the blood of Christian men — the blood of kin- 
dred I Clearly enough, the violence of political passions, of 
which this war was the most lamentable fruit, had, in many 
other ways, attracted upon the )'outhful monk the severe 
opinions of the ecclesiastical authorities. " His excitable and 
vindictive character," we are told, " and above all his passion- 
ate attachment to his relatives, and the violent part which he 
took in their domestic disputes and their continually recur- 
ring rivalries, had engaged him in other struggles, the date of 
which is perhaps later than that of his first departure from 
Ireland, but the responsibility of which is formally imputed 
to him by various authorities, and which also ended in bloody 
battles." At all events, immediately after the battle of Cool 
Drewney, " he was accused by a synod, convoked in the centre 
of the royal domain at Tailte, of having occasioned the shed- 
ding of Christian blood." The synod seems to have acted 
with very uncanonical precipitancy; for it judged the cause 
without waiting for the defence — though, in sooth, the facts. 

'^ "The Annals of the Four Masters report that in a battle waged in 1497, between 
the O'Donnells and M'Dermotts, the sacred book fell into the hands of the latter, who, 
however, restored it in 1499. It was preserved for thirteen hundred years in the 
O'Donnell family, and at present belongs to a baronet of that name, who has per- 
mitted it to be exhibited in the museum of the Royal Irish Academy, where it can be 
seen by all. It is composed of fifty-eight leaves of parchment, bound in silver. The 
learned O'Curry (p. 322) has given a fac-simile of a fragment of this MS., which he 
does not hesitate, to believe is in the handwriting of our saint, as well as that of the 
fine copy of the Gospels called the Book of Kells. of which he has also given a fac- 
simile. See Reeves' note upon Adamnan, p. 250, and the pamphlet upon Marianus 
Scotus, p. 12." — Count Montalemberts note. 



64 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

beyond the power of any defence to remove, were ample and 
notorious. However, the decision was announced — sentence 
of excommunication was pronounced against him ! 

" Columba was not a man to draw back before his accusers 
and judges. He presented himself before the S3'nod which 
had struck without hearing him. He found a defender in the 
famous Abbot Brendan, the founder of the monastery of Birr. 
When Columba made his appearance, this abbot rose, went 
up to him, and embraced him. ' How can you give the kiss 
of peace to an excommunicated man? ' said some of the other 
members of the synod. ' You would do as I have done,' he 
answered, ' and you never would have excommunicated him, 
had you seen what I see — a pillar of fire which goes before 
him, and the angels that accompany him. I dare not disdain 
a man predestined by God to be the guide of an entire people 
to eternal lite.' Thanks to the intervention of Brendan, or to 
some other motive not mentioned, the sentence of excom- 
munication was withdrawn, but Columba was charged to 
win to Christ, by his preaching, as many pagan souls as the 
number of Christians who had fallen in the battle of Cool- 
Drewny." 

Troubled in soul, but still struggling with a stubborn self- 
will, Columba found his life miserable, unhappy, and full of 
unrest ; yet remorse had even now " planted in his soul the 
germs at once of a startling conversion and of his future apos- 
tolic mission." "Various legends reveal him to us at this 
crisis of his life, wandering long from solitude to solitude, and 
from monastery to monastery, seeking out holy monks, mas- 
ters of penitence and Christian virtue, and asking them 
anxiously what he should do to obtain the pardon of God for 
the murder of so many victims." 

At length, after many wanderings in contrition and morti- 
fication, " he found the light which he sought from a holy 
monk, St. Molaise, famed for his studies of Holy Scripture, 
and who had already been his confessor." 

" This severe hermit confirmed the decision of the synod ; 
but to the obligation of converting to the Christian faith an 
equal number of pagans as there were of Christians killed in 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 65 

the civil war, he added a new condition, which bore cruell}" 
upon a soul so passionately attached to country and kindred- 
The confessor condemned his penitent to perpetual exile from 
Ireland I " 

Exile from Ireland ! Did Columba hear the words aright? 
Exile from Ireland! What! See no more that land which 
he loved with such a wild and passionate love ! Part from 
the brothers and kinsmen all, for whom he felt perhaps too 
strong and too deep an affection ! Quit for aye the stirring 
scenes in which so great a part of his sympathies were engag- 
ed ! Leave Ireland ! 

Oh ! it was more hard than to bare his breast to the pierc- 
ing sword ; less welcome than to walk in constant punishment 
of suffering, so that his feet pressed the soil of his worshipped 
Erinn ! 

But it was even so. Thus ran the sentence of Molaise: 
'■^perpetual exile from Ireland ! " 

Staggered, stunned, struck to the heart, Columba could not 
speak for a moment. But God gave him in that great crisis 
of his life the supreme grace of bearing the blow and embrac- 
ing the cross presented to him. At last he spoke, and in a 
voice agitated with emotion he answered : " £e it so; ivhat 
you have commanded shall be done.'' 

From that instant forth his life was one prolonged act of 
penitential sacrifice. For thirty years — his heart burstino- 
within his breast the while — yearning for one sight of Ireland 
— he lived and labored in distant lona. The fame of his sancti- 
ty filled the world ; religious houses subject to his rule arose 
in many a glen and isle of rugged Caledonia; the gifts of 
prophecy and miracle momentously attested him as one of 
God's most favored apostles: yet all the while his heart was 
breaking; all the while in his silent cell Columba's tears flow- 
ed freely for the one grief that neverleft him— the wound that 
only deepened with lengthening time — he was azuay from Ire- 
land! Into all his thoughts this sorrow entered. In all his 

songs — and several of his compositions still remain to us 

this one sad strain is introduced. Witness the followino-, 
which, even in its merely literal translation into the English, 



66 THE HTOllY OF lUELAND. 

retains much (;f ihc poetic beauty and exquisite tenderness of 
tlie original by Coluniba iu the Ciaelic tongue: 

Wliat joy to fly upon llic wlulc-crested sea ; ami watch the waves break upon the 
Irish shore ! 

My foot is in my little boat; but my sad heart ever bleeds ! 

There is a gray eye xiihich ever turns to Erinn; l>ut never in this life shall it see 

Erinn, nor her sons, nor her daughters ! 
I'roni the hi<^h prow I look over the sea; and great tears are in my eyes when I turn 

to Erinn — 
To Erinn, where the songs of the birds are so sweet, and where the clerks sing like 

the birds: 
Where the young are so gentle, and the old are so wise; where the great men are 

so noble to look at, and the women so fair to wed ! 
Young traveller ! carry my sorrows with you; carry them to Comgall of eternal life ! 
Noble youth, take my prayer with thee, and my blessing: one part for Ireland — 

seven times may she be blest — and the other for Albyn. 
Carry my blessing across the sea; carry it to the West. My heart is broken in my 

breast ! 
If death conies suddenly to me, it will be because of the great love I bear to the Gael ! * 

It was to the rugged and desolate Hebrides that Columba 
turned his face when he accepted the terrible penance of Mo- 
laisc. He bade farewell to his relatives, and, with a few monks 
who insisted on accompanying him whithersoever he might go, 
launched his frail currochs from the northern shore. They 
landed first, or rather were carried by wind and stream, upon 
the little isle of Oronsay, close by Islay ; and here for a moment 
they thought their future abode was to be. But when Colum- 
ba, with the early morning, ascending the highest ground on 
the island, to take what he thougiU would be a harmless look 
to-ivards the land of his heart, lo ! on the dim horizon a faint 
blue ridge — the distant hills of Antrim! Me averts his head 
and flics downwards to the strand ! Here they cannot stay, 
if his vow is to be kept. They betake them once more to the 
currochs, and steering further northward, eventually land up- 
on lona, thenceforth, till time shall be no more, to be famed 
as the sacred isle of Columba ! Here landing, he ascended 
the loftiest of the hills upon the isle, and "gazing into the 

* This poem appears to have been presented as a farewell gift by St. Columba to 
some of the Irish visitors at lona, when returning home to Ireland. It is deservedly 
classed amongst the most beautiful of his poetic compositions. 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. G7 

distance, found no longer any trace of Ireland upon the 
horizon." In lona accordingly he resolved to make his home. 
The spot from whence St. Columba made this sorrowful 
survey is still called by the isles-men in the Gaelic tongue, 
Carn-cul-ri-Erinn, or the Cairn of Farewell — literally, The 
back turned on Ireland. 

Writers without number have traced the glories of lona.* 

Here rose, as if by miracle, a city of churches ; the isle be- 
came one vast monastery, and soon much too small for the 
crowds that still pressed thither. Then from the parent isle 
there went forth to the surrounding shores, and all over the 
mainland, off-shoot establishments and missionary colonies 
(all under the authority of Columba), until in time the Gospel 
light was ablaze on the hills of x\lbyn ; and the names of St 
Columba and lona were on every tongue from Rome to the 
utmost limits of Europe ! 

"This man, whom we have seen so passionate, so irritable, 
so warlike and vindictive, became little by little the most gen- 
tle, the humblest, the most tender of friends and fathers. It 
was he, the great head of the Caledonian Church, who, kneeling 
before the strangers who came to lona, or before the morjks 
returning from their work, took off their shoes, washed their 
feet, and after having washed them, respectfully kissed them. 
But charity was still stronger than humilitv in that transfig- 
ured soul. No necessity, spiritual or temporal, found him in- 
different. He devoted himself to the solace of all infirmities, 
all misery, and pain, weeping often over those who did not 
weep for themselves. 

" The work of transcription remained until his last dav the 
occupation of his old age, as it had been the passion of his 

* " We are now," said Dr. Johnson, " treading that illustrious island which was 
once the luminary of the Caledonian regions; whence savage clans and roving bar- 
barians derived the benefits of knowledge and the blessings of religion . . . Far from 
me and from my friends be such frigid philosophy as may conduct us indifferent and 
unmoved over any ground which has been dignified by wisdom, bravery, or virtue. 
That man is little to be envied whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plain of 
Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of lona." — Bos- 
well's Tour to the Hebrides, 



68 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

youth; it had such an attraction for him, and seemed to him 
so essential to a knowledge of the truth, that, as we have al- 
ready said, three hundred copies of the Holy Gospels, copied 
by his own hand, have been attributed to him." 

But still Columba carried with him in his heart the great 
grief that made life for him a lengthened penance. " Far from 
having any prevision of the glory of lona, his soul," says Mon- 
talembert, " was still swayed by a sentiment which never 
abandoned him — regret for his lost country. All his life he 
retained for Ireland the passionate tenderness of an exile, a 
love which displayed itself in the songs which have been pre- 
served to us, and which date perhaps from the first moment 

of his exile ' Death in faultless Ireland is better 

than life without end in Albyn.' After this cry of despair 
follow strains more plaintive and submissive. 

" ' But it was not onlv in these elegies, repeated and perhaps 
retouched by Irish bards and monks, but at each instant of 
his life, in season and out of season, that this love and pas- 
sionate longing for his native country burst forth in words 
and musings ; the narratives of his most trustworthy bio- 
graphers are full of it. The most severe penance which he 
could have imagined for the guiltiest sinners who came to con- 
fess to him, was to impose upon them the same fate which he 
had voluntarily inflicted on himself — never to set foot again 
upon Irish soil! But when, instead of forbidding to sinners 
all access to that beloved isle, he had to smother his envy of 
those who had the right and happiness to go there at their 
pleasure, he dared scarcely trust himself to name its name ; 
and when speaking to his guests, or to the monks who were 
to return to Ireland, he would only say to them, 'you wiU 
return to the country that you love.' " 

At length there arrived an event for Columba full of excru- 
ciating trial — it became necessary for Jiivi to revisit Ireland f 
His presence was found to be imperatively required at the 
general assembly or convocation of the princes and prelates 
of the Irish nation, convened A. D. 573, by Hugh the Second.* 

* Aedh (pronounced Aeh), son of Anmife the First. 



THE BTORY OF IRELAND. 69 

At this memorable assembly, known in history as the great 
Convention of Drumceat, the first meeting of the States of 
Ireland held since the abandonment of Tara, there were to be 
discussed, amongst other important subjects, two which were 
of deep and powerful interestto Columba : firstly, the relations 
between Ireland and the Argyle or Caledonian colony ; and 
secondly, the proposed decree for the abolition of the Bards. 

The country now known as Scotland was, about the time 
of the Christian era, inhabited by a barbarous and warlike 
race called Picts. About the middle of the second century, 
when Ireland was known to the Romans as Scotia, an Irish 
chieftain, Carbri Riada (from whom were descended the Dal- 
raids of Antrim), crossed over to the western shores of Alba 
or Albyn, and founded there a Dalaraidan or Milesian colony. 
The colonists had a hard time of it with their savage Pictish 
neighbors ; yet they managed to hold their ground, though 
receiving very little aid or attention from the parent country, 
to which nevertheless they regularly paid tribute. At leno-th, 
in the year 503, the neglected colony was utterly overwhelmed 
by the Picts, whereupon a powerful force of the Irish Dalraids, 
under the leadership of Leorn, Aengus, and Fergus, crossed 
over, invaded Albany, and gradually subjugating the Picts, 
reestablished the colony on a basis which was the foundation 
eventually of the Scottish monarchy of all subsequent history. 
To the reestablished colony was given the name by which it 
was known long after, Scotia Minor; Ireland being called 
Scotia Major. 

In the time of St. Columba, the colony, which so far had 
continuously been assessed by, and had duly paid its tribute 
to, the mother country, began to feel its competency to claim 
independence. Already it had selected and installed a king 
(whom St. Columba had formally consecrated), and now it 
sent to Ireland a demand to be exempted from further tribute. 
The Irish monarch resisted the demand, which, however, it 
was decided first to submit to a national assembly, at which 
the Scottish colony should be represented, and where it mio-ht 
plead its case as best it could. Many and obvious considera- 
tions pointed to St. Columba as the m,an of men to plead the 



70 THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 

cause of the young nationality on this momentous occasion. 
He was peculiarly qualified to act as umpire in this threaten- 
ing- quarrel between the old country, to which he felt bound 
bs* such sacred ties, and the new one, which by adoption was 
now his home. He consented to attend at the assembly. He 
did so the more readily, perhaps, because of his strong feelings 
in reference to the other proposition named, viz., the proscrip- 
tion of the bards. 

It may seem strange that in Ireland, where, from an early 
date, music and song held so high a place in national estima- 
tion, such a proposition should be made. But by this time 
the numerous and absurd immunities claimed by the bardic 
profession had become intolerable ; and by gross abuses of 
the bardic privileges, the bards themselves had indubitably 
become a pest to society. King Hugh had, therefore, a strong 
public opinion at his back in his design of utterly abolishing 
the bardic corporation. 

St. Columba, however, not only was allied to them by a 
fraternity of feeling, but he discerned clearly that by purify- 
ing and conserving, rather than by destroying, the national 
minstrelsy, it would become a potential influence for good, 
and would entwine itself gratefully around the shrine within 
which at such a crisis it found shelter. In fine, he felt, and 
felt deeply, as an Irishman and as an ecclesiastic, that the pro- 
position of King Hugh would annihilate one of the most treas- 
ured institutions of the nation — one of the most powerful aids 
to patriotism and religion. 

So, to plead the cause of liberty for a young nationality, 
and the cause of patriotism, religion, literature, music and 
poetry, in defending the minstrel race, St. Columba to Ireland 
would go! 

To Ireland ! But then his vow ! His penance sentence, 
that he should never more see Ireland ! How his heart surged ! 
O great allurement ! O stern resolve ! O triumph of sacri- 
fice! 

Yes ; he would keep his vow, yet attend the convocation 
amidst those hills of Ireland which he was never more to see! 
With a vast array of attendant monks and lay princes, he em- 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 71 

barked for the unforgotten land ; but when the galleys came 
within some leagues of the Irish coast and before it could yet 
be sighted, St. Columba caused his eyes to be bandaged with a 
zuhite searf, and thus blindfolded was he led on shore ! It is 
said that when he stepped upon the beach, and for the first 
time during so many years felt that he trod the soil of Ireland, 
he trembled from head to foot with emotion. 

When the great saint was led blindfold into the Convention, 
the whole assemblage — kings, princes, prelates, and chieftains 
— rose and uncovered as reverentially as if Patrick himself 
had once more appeared amongst them.* It was, we may 
well believe, an impressive scene ; and we can well understand 
the stillness of anxious attention with which all waited to hear 
once more the tones of that voice which many traditions class 
amongst the miraculous gifts of Columba. More than one 
contemporary writer has described his personal appearance 
at this time ; and Montalembert says: " All testimonies agree 
in celebrating his manly beauty, his remarkable height, his 
sweet and sonorous voice, the cordiality of his manner, the 
gracious dignity of his deportment and person." 

Not in vain did he plead the causes he had come to advo- 
cate. Long and ably was the question of the Scottish colony 
debated. Some versions allege that it was amicably left to 
the decision of Columba, and that his award of several inde- 
pendance, but fraternal alliance, was cheerfully acquiesced in. 
Other accounts state that king Hugh, finding argument pre- 
vailing against his views, angrily drawing his sword, declared 
he would compel the colony to submission by force of arms ; 
\vhereupon Columba, rising from his seat, in a voice full of 
solemnity and authority, exclaimed : "In the presence of this 
threat of tyrannic force, I declare the cause ended, and proclaim 
the Scottish colony free for ever from the yoke !" By v/hich- 
ever way, however, the result was arrived at, the indepen- 
dence of the young Caledonian nation was recognized and 
voted by the convention through the exertions of St. Columba. 

* Some versions allege that, although the saint himself was received with reverence, 
almost with awe, a hostile demonstration was designed, if not attempted, by the king's 
party against the Scottic delegation who accompanied St. Columba, 



72 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

His views in behalf of the bards likewise prevailed, fie 
admitted the disorders, irregularities, and abuses alleged 
against the body; but he pleaded, and pleaded successfully, for 
reform instead of abolition. Time has vindicated the far- 
sighted policy of the statesman saint. The national music 
and poetry of Ireland, thus purified and consecrated to the 
service of religion and country, have ever since, through 
ages of persecution, been true to the holy mission assigned 
them on that day by Columba. 

The Dove of the Cell made a comparatively long stay in 
Ireland, visiting with scarf-bound brow the numerous mon- 
astic establishments subject to his rule. At length he returned 
to lona, where far into the evening of life he waited for his 
summons to the beatific vision. The miracles he wrought, 
attested by evidence of weight to move the most callous 
sceptic, the myriad wondrous signs of God's favor that 
marked his daily acts, filled all the nations with awe. The 
hour and the manner of his death had long been revealed to 
him. The precise time he concealed from those about him 
until close upon the last day of his life ; but the manner of 
his death he long foretold to his attendants. " I shall die," 
said he, " without sickness or hurt ; suddenly, but happily, 
and without accident." At length one day, while in his usual 
health, he disclosed to Diarmid, his " minister" or regular at- 
tendant monk, that the hour of summons was nigh. A week 
before he had gone around the island, taking leave of the 
monks and laborers ; and when all wept, he strove anxiously 
to console them. Then he blessed the island and the inhabi- 
tants. " And now," said he to Diarmid, " here is a secret ; but 
you must keep it till I am gone. This is Saturday, the day 
called Sabbath, or day of rest : and that it will be to me, for it 
shall be the last of my laborious life." In the evening he 
retired to his cell, and began to work for the last time, being 
then occupied in transcribing the Psalter. When he had 
come to the thirty-third Psalm, and the verse, " Inqtiirentes 
autein Dominimi non deficient omni bono,'' he stopped short. " / 
cease here," said he ; " Baithin must do the rest." 

Montalembert thus describes for us the " last scene of all : " — 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 73 

"As soon as the midnight bell had rung for the matins of the 
Sunday festival, he rose and hastened before the other monks 
to the church, where he knelt down before the altar. Diar- 
mid followed him ; but, as the church was not yet lighted, he 
could only find him by groping and crying in a plaintive voice, 
* Where art thou, my father ? ' He found Columba lying before 
the altar, and, placing himself at his side, raised the old abbot's 
venerable head upon his knees. The whole community soon 
arrived with lights, and wept as one man at the sight of their 
dying father. Columba opened his eyes once more, and 
turned them to his children on either side with a look full of 
serene and radiant joy. Then, with the aid of Diarmid, he 
raised as best he might his right hand to bless them all- 
His hand dropped, the last sigh came from his lips, and his 
face remained calm and sweet, like that of a man who m 
his sleep had seen a vision of heaven." 

Like the illustrious French publicist whom I have so largely 
followed in this sketch, I may say that I have " lingered per- 
haps too long on the grand form of this monk rising up before 
us from the midst of the Hebridean sea." But I have, from 
the missionary saint-army of Ireland, selected this one — this 
typical apostle — to illustrate the characters that illumine one 
of the most glorious pages of our history. Many, 
indeed, were the " Columbs " that went forth from Ireland, as 
from an ark of faith, bearing blessed olive branches to the 
mountain tops of Europe, then slowly emerging from the 
flood of paganism. Well might we dwell upon this period of 
Irish history ! It was a bright and a glorious chapter. It was 
soon, alas ! to be followed by one of gloom. Five hundred years 
of military fame and five hundred years of Christian glory 
were to be followed by five hundred years of disorganizing 
dissensions, leading to centuries of painful bondage. 



74 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 




X. — THE DANES IN IRELAND. 

/^'HE first dark cloud came from Scandinavia. Towards 
the close of the eighth century the Danes made their 
appearance in Ireland. They came at first as transitory 
coast marauders, landing and sacking a neighboring 
town, church, or monastery. For this species of war- 
fare the Irish seem to have been as little prepared as any of the 
other European countries subjected to the like scourge, that 
is to say, none of them but the Danes possessed at this 
period of history a powerful fleet. So when the pirates had 
wreaked their will upon the city or monastery, in order to 
plunder which they had landed, they simply reembarked and 
sailed away comparatively safe from molestation. 

At length it seems to have occurred to the professional pirates, 
that in place of making periodical dashes on the Irish coast, 
they might secure a permanent footing thereupon, and so 
prepare the way for eventually subjugating the entire kingdom. 
Accordingly, they came in force and possessed themselves of 
several spots favorably placed for such purposes as theirs — 
sites for fortified maritime cities on estuaries affording good 
shelter for their fleets, viz. : Dublin, Drogheda, Waterford, 
Limerick, Wexford, etc. 

In the fourth year of Nial the Third (about the year A. D. 
840), there arrived a monster fleet of these fierce and ruthless 
savages, under the command of Turgesius. They poured 
into the country and carried all before them. For nearly 
seven years, Turgesius exercised over a considerable district 
kingly authority, and the Irish groaned under the horrors of 
oppression the most heartless and brutal. Turgesius convert- 
ed the cathedral at Clonmacnoise into a palace for his own 
use, and from the high altar, used as a throne, the fierce idol- 
ator gave forth his tyrannical commands. Meantime the 
Christian faith was proscribed, the Christian shrines were 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 75 

plundered, the gold and jewels were kept by the spoilers, but 
the holy relics were sacrilegiously given to destruction. The 
schools were dispersed, the books and chronicles burned, and 
finally the " successor of Patrick," the Archbishop of Armagh, 
was seized, the cathedral sacked, and the holy prelate brought a 
captive into the Danish stronghold. 

But the day of retribution was at hand. The divided and 
disorganized tribes were being bitterly taught the necessity 
of union. These latest outrages were too much for Christian 
Irish flesh and blood to bear. Concerting their measures, the 
people simultaneously rose on their oppressors. Turgesius 
was seized and put to death by Malachy, prince of Westmeath, 
while the Irish Ard-Ri, Nial the Third, at length able to rally 
a powerful army against the invaders, swooped down upon 
them from the north, and drove them panic-stricken to their 
maritime fortresses, their track marked with slaughter. Nial 
seems to have been a really noble character, and the circum- 
stances under which he met his death, sudden and calamitous, 
in the very midst of his victorious career, afford ample illus- 
tration of the fact. His army had halted on the banks of the 
Callan river, at the moment swollen by heav^y rains. One of 
the royal domestics or attendants, a common Giolla, in endeav- 
oring to ford the river for some purpose was swept from his 
feet and carried off by the flood. The monarch, who hap- 
pened to be looking on , cried aloud to his guards to succor 
Ihe drowning man, but quicker than any other he himself 
plunged into the torrent. He never rose again. The brave 
Nial, who had a hundred times faced death in the midst of 
of reddened spears, perished in his effort to save the life of 
one of the humblest of his followers. 

The power of the Danes was broken, but they still cluno- 
to the seaports, where either they were able to defy efforts at 
expulsion, or else obtained permission to remain by payino- 
heavy tribute to the Irish sovereign. It is clear enough that 
the presence of the Danes came, in course of time, to be re- 
garded as useful and profitable by the Irish, so long as they 
did not refuse tribute to the native power. The history of 
the succeeding centuries accordingly — the period of the 



76 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

Danish struggle — exhibits a singular spectacle. The Danes 
made themselves fully at home in the great maritime cities, 
which they may be said to have founded, and which their 
commerce certainly raised to importance. The Irish princes 
made alliances betimes with them, and Danes frequently 
fought on opposite sides in the internecine conflicts of the 
Irish princes. Occasionally seizing a favorable opportu- 
nity — (when the Irish were particularly weakened by internal 
feud, and when a powerful reinforcement for themselves 
arrived from Scandinavia) — they would make a fierce en- 
deavor to extend their dominion on Irish soil. These efforts 
were mostly successful for a time, owing to the absence of a 
strong centralized authority amongst the Irish ; but eventually 
the Irish, by putting forth their native valor, and even partially 
combining for the time, were always able to crush them. 

Yet it is evident that during the three hundred years over 
which this Danish struggle spreads, the Irish nation was un- 
dergoing disintegration and demoralization. Towards the 
middle of the period, the Danes became converted to Chris- 
tianity ; but their coarse and fierce barbarism remained long 
after, and it is evident that contact with such elements, and 
increasing political disruption amongst themselves, had a fatal 
effect on the Irish. They absolutely retrograded in learning 
and civilization during this time and contracted some of the 
worst vices that could pave the way for the fate that a few 
centuries more were to bring upon them. 

National pride may vainly seek to ignore or hide the great 
truth here displayed. During the three hundred years that 
preceded the Anglo-Norman invasion, the Irish princes 
appeared to be given over to a madness marking them for 
destruction ! At a time when consolidation of national author- 
ity was becoming the rule all over Europe, and was becoming 
so necessary for them, they were going into the other ex- 
treme. As the general rule, each one sought only his per- 
sonal or family ambition or aggrandisement, and strove for it 
lawless.ly and violently. Frequently when the Ard-Ri of 
Erinn was nobly grappling with the Danish foe, and was on 
the point of finally expelling the foreigner, a subordinate 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND, 77 

prince would seize what seemed to him the golden opportu- 
nity for throwing off the authority of the chief king, or for 
treacherously endeavoring to grasp it himself ! During the 
whole time — three centuries — there was scarcely a single reign 
in which the Ard-Ri did not find occupation for his arms as 
constantly in compelling the submission of the subordinate 
native princes, as in combating the Scandinavian foe. 

Religion itself suffered in this national declension. In these 
centuries we find professedly Christian Irish kings themselves 
as ruthless destroyers of churches and schools as the pagan 
Danes of a few years previous. The titles of the Irish epis- 
copacy were sometimes seized by lay princes for the sake of 
the revenues attached to them ; the spiritual functions of the 
offices, however, being performed by ecclesiastics meanwhile. 
In fine, the Irish national character in those centuries is to be 
censured, not admired. It would seem as if by adding 
sacrilege and war upon religion and on learning to political 
suicide and a fatal frenzy of factiousness, the Irish princes of 
that period were doing their best and their worst to shame 
the glories of their nation in the preceding thousand years, 
and to draw down upon their country the terrible chastise- 
ment that eventually befel it, a chastisement which never 
could have befallen it, but for the state of things I am here 
pointing out. 

Yet was this gloomy period lit up by some brilliant flashes 
of glory, the brightest, if not the last, being that which sur- 
rounds the name of Clontarf, where the power of the Danes 
in Ireland was crushed totally and for ever. 




78 



THE STOKi' OF IRELAND. 



XI.— HOW "BRIAN OF THE TRIBUTE" BECAME A HIGH KING OF 

ERINN. 




vj (EW historical names are more 
J ""i widely known amongst Irish- 
e) men than that of Brian the 
First — " Brian Boru, or Bo- 
rumha:"* and the story of his life is 
a nccessar)' and an interesting intro- 
duction to an account of the battle 
ot Clontarf. 

About the middle of the tenth century the crown of Munster 
was worn by Mahon, son of Ceineidi (pr. Kennedy), a prince 
of the Dalcassian family. Mahon had a young brother, Brian, 
and by all testimony the aflFection which existed between the 
brothers was something touching. Mahon, who was a noble 
character—" as a prince and captain in every way worthy of 
his inheritance"— was accompanied in all his expeditions, and 



"That is, "Brian of the Tribute." 



THE STORY OF IRELAND . 79 

from an early age, by Brian, to whom he acted not only as a 
brother and prince, but as military preceptor. After a 
brilliant career, Mahon fell by a deed of deadly treachery. 
A rival prince of south Munster — " MoUoy, son of Bran, 
Lord of Desmond" — whom he had vanquished, proposed to 
meet him in friendly conference at the house of Donovan, an 
Eugenian chief. The safety of each person was guaranteed 
by the Bishop of Cork, who acted as mediator between ihem. 
Mahon, chivalrous and unsuspecting, went unattended and 
unarmed to the conference. He was seized by an armed band 
of Donovan's men, who handed him over to a party of Molloy s 
retainers, by whom he was put to death. He had with hun, 
as the sacred and (as it ought to have been) inviolable " safe- 
conduct" on the faith of which he had trusted himself into the 
power of his foes, a copy of the Gospels written by the hand 
of St. Barre. As the assassins drew their swords upon him. 
Mahon snatched up the sacred scroll, and held it on his 
breast, as if he could not credit that a murderous hand would 
dare to wound him through such a shield ! But the murderers 
plunged their swords into his heart, piercing right through 
the vellum, which became all stained and matted with his 
blood. Two priests had, horror-stricken, witnessed the out- 
rage. They caught up the bloodstained Gospels and fled to 
the bishop, spreading through the country as they went 
the dreadful news which they bore. The venerable successor 
of St. Fin Bar, we are told, wept bitterly and uttered a 
prophecy concerning the fate of the murderers, which was 
soon and remarkably fulfilled. 

" When the news of his noble-hearted brother's death was 
brought to Brian at Kincora, he was seized with the mosi 
violent grief. His favorite harp was taken down, and he 
sang the death-song of Mahon, recounting all the glorious 
actions of his life. His anger flashed out through his tears 
as he wildly chaunted — 

' My heart shall burst within my breast. 
Unless I avenge this great king. 
They shall forfeit life for this foul deed, 
Or I must perish by a violent death.' 



80 THE STORY OF IREL.iND. 

" But the climax of his grief was, that Mahon ' had not fallen 
behind the shelter of his shield, rather than trust the treach- 
erous word of Donovan." * 

A " Bard of Thomond " in our own day — one not unworthy 
of his proud pseudonym — Mr, M. Hogan of Limerick, has 
supplied the following very beautiful version of " Brian's 
Lament for King Mahon :" — 

Lament, O Dalcassians ! the Eagle of Cashel is dead ! 
The grandeur, the glory, the joy of her palace is fled ; 
Your strength in the battle — your bulwark of valor is low, 
But the fire of your vengeance will fall on the murderous foe ! 

His country was mighty — his people were blest in his reign, 
But the ray of his glory shall never shine on them again ; 
Like beauty of summer his presence gave joy to our souls, 
^Vhen bards sung his deeds at the banquet of bright golden Ijowls. 

Ye maids of Temora, whose rich garments sweep the green plain ! 
Ye chiefs of the sunburst, the terror and scourge of the Dane ! 
Ye gray-haired Ard-Fileas ! whose songs fire the blood of the brave ! 
Oh ! weep, for your Sun-star is quenched in the night of the grave 

He clad you with honors— he lilled your high hearts with delight. 
In the midst of your councils he beamed in his wisdom and might ; 
Gold, silver, and jewels were only as dust in his hand, 
But his sword like a lightning-flash blasted the foes of his land. 

Oh ! Mahon, my brother ! we ve conquer'd and marched side by side. 
And thou wert to the love of my soul as a beautiful bride ; 
In the battle, the banquet, the council, the chase and the throne. 
Our beings were blended — our spirits were filled with one tone. 

Oh ! Mahon, my brother ! thou'st died like the hind of the wood. 
The hands of assassins were red with thy pure noble blood ; 
And I was not near, my beloved, when thou wast o'erpower'd, 
To steep in their hearts' blood the steel of my blue-beaming sword. 

I stood by the dark misty river at eve dim and gray. 

And I heard the death-cry of the spirit of gloomy Craghlea ; 

She repeated thy name in her caoine of desolate woe. 

Then I knew that the Beauty and Joy of Clan Tail was laid low. 

All day and all night one dark vigil of sorrow I keep. 
My spirit is bleeding with wounds that are many and deep ; 
My banquet is anguish, tears, groaning, and wringing of hands. 
In madness lamenting my prince of the gold-hilted brands. 

' • M'Gee. 



THE STORY OF IRELA.ND. 81 

O God ! give me patience to bear the affliction I feel, 
But for every hot tear a red blood-drop shall blush on my steel ; 
For every deep pang which my grief-stricken spirit has known, 
A thousand death-wounds in the day of revenge shall atone. 

And he smote the murderers of his brother with a swift and 
terrible vengeance. Mustering his Dalcassian legions, which 
so often with Mahon he had led to victory, he set forth upon 
the task of retribution. His first effort, the old records tell us, 
was directed against the Danes of Limerick, who were Don- 
ovan's allies, and he slew Ivor, their king, and his two sons. 
Foreseeingtheir fate, they had fled before him, and had taken 
refuge in " Scattery's Holy Isle." But Brian slew them even 
'• between the horns of the altar." Next came the turn of 
Donovan, who had meantime hastily gathered to his aid the 
Danes of South Munster. But " Brian," say the Annals of 
Innisfallen, " gave them battle, and Auliffe and his Danes, and 
Donovan and his allies, were all cut off." Of all guilty in the 
murder of the brother whom he so loved, there now remain- 
ed but one — the principal, MoUoy the son of Bran. After 
the fashion in those times, Brian sent MoUoy a formal sum- 
mons or citation to meet him in battle until the terrible issue 
between them should be settled. To this Molloy responded 
by confederating all the Irish and Danes of South Munster 
whom he could rally, for yet another encounter with the aveng- 
ing Dalcassian. But the curse of the Comharba of St. Barre was 
upon the murderers of Mahon, and the might of a passionate 
vengeance was in Brian's arm. Again he was victorious. The 
confederated Danes and Irish were overthown with great 
slaughter ; Brian's son, Morrogh, then a mere lad, " killing the 
murderer of his uncle Mahon with his own hand." " Molloy 
was buried on the north side of the mountain were Mahon 
had been murdered and interred : on Mahon the sun shone 
full and fair ; but on the grave of his assassin the black shadow 
of the northern sky rested always. Such was the tradition 
which all Munster piously believed. After this victory Brian 
was universally acknowledged king of Munster, and until 
Ard-Ri Malachy won the battle of Tara, was justly consider- 
ed the first Irish captain of his age." * 

* M'Gee. 



82 THE STORY OF iliJiLA^SD. 

This was the opening chapter of Brian's career. Thence- 
forth his military reputation and his political influence are 
found extending far beyond the confines of Munster. 

The supreme crown of Ireland at this time was worn by a 
brave and enlightened sovereign, Malachy the Second, or 
Malachy Mor. He exhibited rare qualities of statesmanship^ 
patriotism, and valor, in his vigorous efforts against the 
Danes. On the occasion of one of his most signal victories 
over them, he himself engaged in combat two Danish princes, 
overcame and slew both of them, taking from off' the neck of ' 
one a massive collar of gold, and from the grasp of the other 
a jewel-hilted sword, which he himself thenceforward wore 
as trophies. To this monarch, and to the incident here men- 
tioned, Moore alludes in his well-known lines : — 

Let Erin remember the days of old. 

Ere her faithless sons betrayed her, 
IVhen Malachy ivore the collar of gold 
Thai he won from the proud invader. 

Whether it was that Ard-Ri Malachy began to fear the in- 
creasing and almost over-shadowing power and influence of 
his southern tributary, or that Brian had in his pride of 
strength refused to own his tributary position, it seems im- 
possible to tell ; but unfortunately for Ireland the brave and 
wise Ard-Ri Malachy, and the not less brave and wise tribu- 
tary Brian, became embroiled in a bitter war, the remote but 
indubitable consequences of which most powerfully and cal- 
amitously affected the future destinies of Ireland. For nearly 
twenty years the struggle between them continued. Any ad. 
versary less able than Malachy would have been quickly com- 
pelled to succumb to ability such as Brian's ; and it may on 
the other hand be said that it was only a man of Brian's 
marvellous powers whom Malachy could not effectively 
crush in as many months. Two such men united could ac- 
complish anything with Ireland ; and when they eventually 
did unite, they absolutely sw^ept the Danes into their walled 
and fortified cities, from whence they had begun once more to 
overrun the country during the distractions of the struggle be- 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 83 

tween Malachy and Brian. During the short peace or truce be- 
tween himself and the Ard-Ri, Brian — who was a sagacious 
diplomatist as well as a great general — seems to have attached 
to his interest nearly all the tributary kings, and subsequently 
even the Danish princes ; so that it was easy to see that already 
his eye began to glance at the supreme crown. Malachy saw 
it all, and when the decisive moment at last arrived, and 
Brian, playing Cassar, " crossed the Rubicon," the now only 
titular Ard-Ri made a gallant but brief defence against the am- 
bitious usurper — for such Brian was on the occasion. After this 
short effort Malachy yielded with dignity and calmness to the 
inevitable, and gave up the monarchy of Erinn to Brian. The 
abdicated sovereign thenceforward served under his victori- 
ous rival as a subordinate, with a readiness and fidelity which 
showed him to be Brian's superior at least in unselfish pa- 
triotism and in readiness to sacrifice personal pride and per- 
sonal rights to the public interests of his country. 

Brian, now no longer king of Munster, but Ard-Ri of Erinn, 
found his ambition fully crowned. The power and authority 
to which he had thus attained, he wielded with a wisdom, a 
sagacity, a firmness, and a success that made his reign as 
Ard-Ri, while it lasted, one of almost unsurpassed glory,, 
prosperity, and happiness for Ireland. Yet the student of 
Irish history finds no fact more indelibly marked on his mind 
by the thoughtful study of the great page before him, than 
this, namely, that, glorious as was Brian's reign — brave, gen- 
erous, noble, pious, learned, accomplished, politic, and wise, 
as he is confessed on all hands to have been— his seizure of the 
supreme national crown was a calamity for Ireland. Or 
rather, perhaps, it would be more correct and more just to 
say, that having reference not singly to his ambitious seizure 
of the national crown, but also to the loss in one day of his 
own life and the lives of his next heirs (both son and grand- 
son), the event resulted calamitously for Ireland. For, " it 
threw open the sovereignty to every great family as a prize 
to be won by policy or force, and no longer an inheritance to 
be determined by law and usage. The consequences were 
what might have been expected. After his death the O'Con- 



84 THE STORY OF IKE LAND. 

nors of the West competed with both O'Neills and O'Briens 
for supremacy, and a cJironic civil zvar prepared the tvay for 
Strongbow and the Normans. The term ' kings with opposition ' 
is applied to nearly all who reigned between king Brian's 
time and that of Roderic O'Connor" (the Norman invasion)^ 
" meaning thereby kings who were unable to secure general 
obedience to their administration of affairs."* 

Brian, however, in all probablity, as the historian I have 
quoted pleads on his behalf, might have been moved by the 
great and statesmanlike scheme of consolidating and fusing 
Ireland into one kingdom ; gradually repressing individuality 
in the subordinate principalities, and laying the firm foun- 
dation of an enduring and compact monarchical state, of which 
his own posterity would be the sovereigns. " For Morrogh, 
his first-born, and for Morrogh's descendants he hoped to 
found an hereditary kingship after the type universally cop- 
ied throughout Christendom. He was not ignorant of what 
Alfred had done for England, Harold for Norway, Charle- 
magne for France, and Otho for Germany." If anv such de- 
sign really inspired Brian's course, it was a grandly useful 
one, comprehensive, and truly national. Its realization was 
just what Ireland wanted at that period of her history, But 
its existence in Brian's mind is a most fanciful theory. He 
was himself, while a tributary king, no wondrous friend or 
helper of centralized authority. He pushed from the throne 
:a wise and worthy monarch. He grasped at the sceptre, not 
in a reign of anarchy, but in a period of comparative ord^er, 
authority, and tranquillity. 

Be that as it may, certain it is that Brian was " every inch 
a king." Neither on the Irish throne, nor on that of any 
other kingdom, did sovereign ever sit more splendidly qual- 
ified to rule ; and Ireland had not for some centuries known 
such a glorious and prosperous, peaceful, and happy time as 
the five years preceding Brian's death. He caused his author- 
ity to be not only unquestioned, but obeyed and respected in 
every corner of the land. So justly were the laws adminis- 

* M'Gee. 



IHE STORY OF IRELAND. 85 

tered in his name, and so loyally obeyed throughout the king- 
dom, that the bards relate a rather fanciful story of a young 
and exquisitely beautiful lady, making, without the slightest 
apprehension of violence or insult, and in perfect safety, a 
tour of the island on foot, alone and unprotected, though 
bearing about her the most costly jewels and ornaments of 
gold ! A national minstrel of our own times has celebrated this 
illustration of the tranquillity of Brian's reign in the well 
known poem, " Rich and rare were the gems she wore." 




XII. — now A DARK THUNDER-CLOUD GATHERED OVER IRE- 
LAND. 

BOUT this time the Danish power all over Europe had 
made considerable advances. In France it had fast- 
ened itself upon Normandy, and in England it had once 
more become victorious, the Danish prince, Sweyne 
having been proclaimed king of England in 1013, though it 
was not until the time of his successor, Canute, that the Dan- 
ish line were undisputed monarchs of England. All these 
triumphs made them turn their attention the more earnestly 
to Ireland, which they so often and so desperately, yet so 
vainly, sought to win. At length the Danes of this country — 
holding several of the large sea port cities, but yielding 
tribute to the Irish monarch — seem to have been roused to 
the design of rallying all the might of the Scanian race for 
one gigantic and supreme effort to conquer the kingdom : 
for it was a reflection hard for northmen to endure, that they 
who had conquered England almost as often as they tried, 
who had now placed a Danish sovereign on the English 
throne, and had established a Danish dukedom of Normandy 
in France had, never yet been able to bring this dearly cov- 
eted western isle into subjection and had never once given a 
monarch to its line of kings. Coincidently with the victories 
of sweyne in England, several Danish expeditions appeared 
upon the Irish coast : now at Cork in the south,*now at Lough 



86 THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 

Foyle in the north ; but these were promptly met and repell- ^ 
ed by the vigorof the Ard-Ri, or of the local princes. These 
forays, however, though serious and dangerous enough, were 
but the prelude of the forthcoming grand assault, or as it has 
been aptly styled, " the last field-day of Christianity and 
Paganism on Irish soil." 

" A taunt thrown out over a game of chess at Kincora is 
said to have hastened this memorable day. Maelmurra, prince 
of Leinster, playing or advising on the game, made or recom- . 
mended a false move, upon which Morrogh, son of Brian, ob- 
served it was no wonder his friends the Danes (to whom he 
owed his elevation) were beaten at Glenmana, if he gave them 
advice like that. Maelmurra, highly incensed by the allusion — 
all the more severe for its bitter truth — arose, ordered his horse, 
and rode away in haste. Brian, when he heard it, despatched 
a messenger after the indignant guest, begging him to re- 
turn ; but Maelmurra was not to be pacified, and refused. 
We next hear of him as concerting with certain Danish agents, 
always open to such negotiations, those measures which led 
to the great invasion of the year 1014, in which the whole 
Scanian race, from Anglesea and Man, north to Norway, bore 
an active share. 

"These agents passing over to England and Man, among 
the Scottish isles, and even to the Baltic, followed up the de- 
sign of an invasion on a gigantic scale. Suibne, earl of Man, 
entered warmly into this conspiracy, and sent ' the war-arrow' 
through all those 'out-islands' which obeyed him as lord. A yet 
more formidablepotentate,Sigurd,of the Orkneys, next joined 
the league. He was the fourteenth earl of Orkney, of Norse 
origin, and his power was at this period a balance to that of 
his nearest neighbor, the king of Scots. He had ruled since 
the year 996, not only over the Orkneys, Shetland, and the 
Northern Hebrides, but the coasts of Caithness and Sutherland, 
and even Ross and Mora)'^ rendered him homage and tribute. 
Eight years before the battle of Clontarf, Malcolm the Second 
of Scotland had been fain to purchase his alliance by giving 
him his daughter in marriage, and the kings of Denmark and 
Norway treated with him on equal terms. The hundred in- 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 87 

habited isles which lie between Yell and Man, — isles which 
after their conversion contained ' three hundred churches and 
chapels ' — sent in their contingents, to swell the following of 
the renowned earl Sigurd. As his fleet bore southward from 
Kirkwall, it swept the subject coast of Scotland, and gathered 
from every lough its galleys and its fighting-men. The rendez- 
vous was the Isle of Man, where Suibne had placed his own for- 
ces, under the command of Brodar, or Broderick, a famous 
leader against the Britons of Wales and Cornwall. In con- 
junction with Sigurd, the Manxmen sailed over to Ireland, 
where they were joined, in the Liffey, by earl Canuteson, 
prince of Denmark, at the head of fourteen hundred cham- 
pions clad in armor. Sitric of Dublin stood, or affected to 
stand, neutral in these preparations, but Maelmurra of Leinster 
had mustered all the forces he could command for such an ex- 
pedition."* 

Here was a mighty thunder-storm gathering over and 
around Ireland? Never before was an effort of such magni- 
tude made for the conquest of the island. Never before had 
the Danish power so palpably put forth its utmost strength, 
and never hitherto had it put forth such strength in vain. This 
was the supreme moment for Ireland to show what she could do 
when united in self-defence against a foreign invader. Here 
were the unconquered Northmen, the scourge and terror of 
Europe, the conquerors of Britain, Normandy, Anglesea, Ork- 
ney, and Man, now concentrating the mi^ht of their whole 
race, from fiord and haven, from the Orkneys to the Scilly 
Isles, to burst in an overwhelming billow upon Ireland! If 
before a far less formidable assault England went down, dare 
Ireland hope now to meet and withstand this tremendous 
shock? In truth, it seemed a hard chance. It was a trial- 
hour for the men of Erinn. And gloriously did they meet it ! 
Never for an instant were they daunted by the tidings of the 
extensive and mighty perparations going forward ; for the 
news filled Europe, and a hundred harbors in Norway, Den- 
mark, France, England, and the Channel Isles resounded day 

• M'Gee. 



88 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

and night with the bustle preparatory for the coming war, 
Brian was fully equal to the emergency. He resolved to meet 
force by force, combination by combination, preparation by 
preparation ; to defy the foe, and let them see *' what Irishmen 
could do." His efforts were nobly seconded by the zeal of all 
the tributary princes (with barely a few exceptions), but most 
nobly of all by the deposed Malachy, whose conduct upon 
this occasion alone would entitle him to a proud place in the 
annals of Ireland. In one of the preliminary expeditions of 
the Danes a few years previously, he detected more quickly 
than Brian the seriousness of the work going forward ; he 
sent word hurriedly to Kincora, that the Danes, who had land- 
ed near Dublin, were marching inward, and entreated of Brian 
to hasten to check them promptly. The Ard-Ri, however, 
was at that time absolutely incredulous that anything more 
serious than a paltry foray was designed ; and he refused, it 
is said, to lend any assistance to the local prince. But Mal- 
achy had a truer conception of the gravity of the case. He 
himself marched to meet the invaders, and in a battle which en- 
sued, routed them, losing, however, in the hour of victory his 
son Flann. This engagement awakened Brian to a sense of 
the danger at hand. He quickly despatched an auxiliary force, 
under his son Morrogh, to Malachy's aid ; but the Danes, driv- 
en into their walled city of Dublin by Malachy, did not 
venture out ; and so the Dalcassian force returned southwards, 
devastating the territory of the traitor, Maelmorha, of Lein- 
ster, whose perfidy was now openly proclaimed. 



THE STORY OF IllELAND. 89* 




XIII. — THE GLORIOUS DAY OF CLONTARF. 

IRIAN soon became fully aware of the scheme at which 
the Danes all over Europe were laboring, and of the 
terrible trial approaching for Ireland. Through all 
the autumn of that year, 1 013, and the spring months of 
the year following, the two powers, Danish and Irish, were 
working hard at preparations for the great event, each straining 
every energy and summoning every resource for the crisis. 
Towards the close of March, Brian's arrangements being com- 
pleted, he gave the order for a simultaneous march to Kilmain- 
ham,* usually the camping ground and now the appointed 
rendezvous of the national forces. By the second week in April 
there had rallied to the national standard a force which, if nu- 
merically unequal to that assembled by the invaders, was, as 
the result showed, able to compensate by superior valor for 
whatever it lacked in numbers. The lords of all the southern 
half of the kingdom — the lords of Decies, Inchiquin, Fermoy, 
Corca-Baiskin, Kinalmeaky, and Kerry — and the lords of Hy- 
Manie and Hi-Fiachra in Connacht, we are told, hastened to 
Brian's standard. O'More and O'Nolan of Leinster, and 
Donald, Steward of Marr, in Scotland, continues the histor- 
ian, " were the other chieftains who joined him before Clon- 
tarf, besides those of his own kindred," or the forces proper of 
Thomond.f Just one faint shadow catches the eye as we sur- 

* The district north and south of the Liffey at this point — the Phcenix Park, Kil- 
mainham,Inchicore, and Chapel-lzod — was the rendezvous. 

t ''Under the standard of Brian Borumha also fought that day the Maermors, or 
Great Stewards of Lennox and Mar, with a contingent of the brave Gaels of Alba. It 
would even appear, from a Danish account, that some of the Northmen who had al- 
ways been friendly to Brian, fought on his side at Clontarf. A large body of hardy 
men came from the distant maritime districts of Connemara; many warriors flocked 
from other territories, and, on the whole, the rallying of the men of Ireland in the 
cause of their country upon that occasion, as much as the victory which their gal- 
lantry achieved, renders the event a proud and cheering one in Irish history." — Havertv- 



90 THE STORY OF lEELAND. 

vey the picture presented by Ireland in the hour of this great 
national rally. The northern chieftains, the lords of Ulster, 
alone held back. Sullen and silent, they stirred not. "They 
had submitted to Brian ; but they never cordially supported 
him, " 

The great Danish flotilla, under Brodar, the admiral-in-chief, 
entered Dublin Bay on Palm Sunday, the i8th of April, 1014. 
The galleys anchored, some of them at Sutton, near Hovvth, 
others were moored in the mouth of the river Liffey, and the 
rest were beached or anchored in a vast line stretching along 
the Clontarf shore, which sweeps between the two points in- 
dicated. Brian immediately swung his army round upon 
Glasnevin, crossed the Tolka at the point where the Botanical 
Gardens now stand, and faced his line of battle southward 
towards where the enemy were encamped upon the shore. 
Meantime, becoming aware that Maelmorra, prince of Leins- 
ter, was so eager to help the invader, that he had entered 
the Danish camp with every man of his following, Brian 
secretly despatched a body of Dalcassians, under his son Don- 
agh, to dash into the traitor's territory and waste it with fire 
and sword. The secret march southward of the Dalcassians 
was communicated to Maelmorra by a spy in Brian's camp, 
and, inasmuch as the Dalcassians were famed as the " invinci- 
ble legion " of the Irish army, the traitor urged vehemently up- 
on his English allies that this was the moment to give battle — 
while Brian's best troops were away. Accordingly, on Holy 
Thursday, the Danes announced their resolution to give bat- 
tle next day. Brian had the utmost reluctance to fight upon 
that day, which would be Good Friday, thinking it almost a 
profanation to engage in combat upon the day on which our 
Lord died for man's redemption. He begged that the engage- 
ment might be postponed even one day ; but the Danes were 
all the more resolute to engage on the next morning, for, says 
an old legend of the battle, Brodar, having consulted one of 
the Danish pagan oracles, was told that if he gave battle up- 
on the Friday Brian would fall. 

With early dawn next day. Good Friday, 23d of April, 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 91 

1014, all was bustle in both camps.* The Danish army, facing 
inland, northwards or north-east, stretched along the shore 
of Dublin Bay ; its left flank touching and protected by the 
city of Dublin, its centre being about the spot where Clontarf 
castle now stands, and its right wing resting on Dolly mount. 
The Irish army, facing southwards, had its right on Drum- 
condra, its centre on Fairview, and its extreme left on Clon- 
tarf. The Danish forces were disposed of in three divisions, 
of which the first, or left, was composed of the Danes of Dub- 
lin, under their king, Sitric, and the princes Dolat and Con- 
mael, with the thousand Norwegians already mentioned as 
clothed in suits of ringed mail, under the youthful warriors 
Carlus and Anrud ; the second, or central division, was com- 
posed chiefly of the Lagenians, commanded by Maelmorha 
himself, and the princes of Offaly and of the Liffey territory; 
and the third division, or right wing, was made up of the 
iiuxiliaries from the Baltic and the Islands, under Brodar, ad- 
miral 01 the fleet, and the Earl of Orkneys, together with some 
British auxiliaries from Wales and Cornwall. To oppose 
these the Irish monarch also marshalled his forces in three 
corps or divisions. The first, or right wing, composed chiefly 
of the diminished legions of the brave Dalcassians, was under 
the command of his son Morrogh, who had also with him his 
four brothers, Tiege, Donald, Conor, and Flann, and his own 
son (grandson of Brian), the youthful Torlogh, who was but 
fifteen years of age. In this division also fought Malachy 



* Haverty says: " The exact site of the battle seems to be tolerably well defined. 
In some copies of the Annals it is called ' the Battle of the Fishing-weir of Clontarf;' 
and the weir in question must have been at the mouth of the Tolka, about the place 
where Pallybough Bridge now stands. It also appears that the principal destruction 
of the Danes took place when in their flight they endeavored to cross the Tolka., 
probably at the moment of high water, when great numbers of them were drowned; 
and it is expressly stated that they were pursued with great slaughter ' from the 
Tolka to Dublin.' " I, however, venture, though with proper diffidence, to suggest 
that the ' Fishing weir' stood a short distance higher up the river, to wit, at Clonliffe, 
directly below where the College of the Holy Cross now stands. For there is, in 
my opinion, ample evidence to show that at that time the sea flowed over the flats on 
the city side, by which Ballybough Bridge is now approached, making a goodly bay, 
or wide estuary, there; and that only about the point I indicate was a fishing-weir 
likely to have stood in 1014. 



92 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

with the Meath contingent. The Irish centre division com- 
prised the troops of Desmond, or South Munster, under the 
command of Kian, son of Molloy, and Donel, son of Duv 
Davoren (ancestor of The O'Donoghue), both of the Eugenian 
line. The Irish left wing was composed mainly of the forces 
of Connaught, under O'Kelly, prince of Hy-Manie (the great 
central territory of Connact) O'Heyne, prince of Hy-Fiachra 
Ahna ; and Echtigern, king of Dalaradia. It is supposed that 
Brian's army numbered about 20,000 men.* 

All being ready for the signal of battle, Brian himself, 
mounted on a richly-caparisoned charger, rode through the 
Irish lines, as all the records are careful to tell us, " with his 
sword in one hand, and a crucifix in the other," exhorting the 
troops to remember the momentous issues that depended up- 
on the fortunes of that day — Religion and Country against 
Paganism and Bondage. It is said, that on this occasion he 
delivered an address which moved his soldiers, now to tears, 
and anon to the utmost pitch of enthusiasm and resolution. 
And we can well imagine the efTect, upon an army drawn up 
as they were for the onset of battle in defence of " Faith and 
Fatherland," of such a sight and such an appeal— their aged 
and venerable monarch, "his white hair floating in the wind," 
riding through their lines, with the sacred symbol of Redemp- 
tion borne aloft, and adjuring them, as the chronicles tell us, 
to " rcvienibcr that on this day Christ died for us, on the Mount 
of Calvary^ Moreover, Brian himself had given them an 
earnest, such perhaps as monarch had never given before, of 
his resolve, that with the fortunes of his country he and his 
sons and kinsmen all would stand or fall. He had brought 
" his sons and nephews there," says the historian, who might 
have added, and even Jiis grand-children, "and showed that he 
was prepared to let the existence <jf his race depend upon the 
issue of the day." We may be sure a circumstance so affect- 
ing as this was not lost upon Brian's soldiers. It gave force 
to every word of his address. He recounted, we are told, all 
the barbarities and the sacrileges perpetrated by the invaders 



Abridged from Havertv. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 93 

in their lawless ravages on Irish soil, the shrines they had 
plundered, the holy relics they had profaned, the brutal cruel- 
ties they had inflicted on unarmed non-combatants — nay, on 
" the servants of the Altar." Then, raising the crucifix aloft, 
he invoked the Omnipotent God to look down upon them 
that day, and to strengthen their arms in a cause so just and 
holy. 

Mr. William Kenealy (now of Kilkenny) is the author of a 
truly noble poem which gives with all the native vigor and 
force of the original, this thrilling "Address of Brian to his 
army." 

Stand ye now for Erin's glory ! Stand ye now for Erin's cause ! 
Long ye've groaned beneath the rigor of the Northmen's savage laws. 
What though brothers league against us ? What, though myriads be the foe ? 
Victory will be more honored in the myriads' overthrow. 

Proud Connacians ! oft we 've wrangled in our petty feuds of yore; 
Now we fight against the robber Dane upon our native shore; 
May our hearts unite in friendship, as our blood in one red tide, 
While we crush their mail-clad legions, and annihilate their pride ! 

Brave Eugenians ! Erin triumphs in the sight she sees to-day — 
Desmond's homesteads all deserted for the muster and the fray ! 
■Cluan's vale and Galtees' summit send their bravest and their best — 
May such hearts be theirs for ever, for the Freedom of the West ! 

Chiefs and Kernes of Dalcassia ! Brothers of my past career, 
Oft, we've trodden on the pirate-flag that flaunts before us here ; 
You remember Inniscattery, how we bounded on the foe, 
As the torrent of the mountain bursts upon the plain below ! 

They have razed our proudest castles — spoiled the Temples of the Lord — 
Burnt to dust the sacred relics — put the Peaceful to the sword — 
Desecrated all things holy — as they soon may do again, 
If their power to-day we smite not — if to-day we be not men ! 

On this day the God-man suffered— look upon the sacred sign — 
May we conquer 'neath its shadow, as of old did Constantine! 
May the heathen tribe of Odin fade before it like a dream. 
And the triumph of this glorious day in our future annals gleam ! 

God of heaven bless our banner — nerve our sinews for the strife ! 
Fight we now for all that's holy — for our altars, land, and life — 
For red vengeance on the spoiler, whom the blazing temples trace — 
For the honor of our maidens and the glory of our race ! 



94: THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

Should 1 fall before the foemen, 'tis the death I seek to-day ; 
Should ten thousand daggers pierce me, bear my body not away, 
Till this day of days be over— till the field is fought and won^ 
Then the holy Mass be chaunted, and the funeral rites be done. 

Men of Erin ! men of Erin ! grasp the battle-axe and spear! 
Chase these Northern wolves before you like a herd of frightened deer! 
Burst their ranks, like bolts from heaven ! Down on the heathen crew, 
For the glory of the Crucified, and Erin's glory too ! 

Who can be astonished that, as he ceased, a shout wild^ 
furious, and deafening, burst from the Irish Hues ? A cr}' arose 
from the soldiers, we are told, demanding instantly to be led 
against the enemy. The aged monarch now placed himself 
at the head of his guards, to lead the van of battle ; but at this 
point his sons and all the attendant princes and commanders 
protested against his attempting, at his advanced age, to take 
part personally in the conflict ; and eventually, after much 
effort, they succeeded in prevailing upon him to retire to his 
tent and to let the chief command devolve upon his eldest son 
Morrogh. 

" The battle," says a historian, " then commenced ; ' a spirit- 
ed, fierce, violent, vengeful, and furious battle; the likeness 
of which was not to be found at that time,' as the old annalists 
quaintly describe it. It was a conflict of heroes. The chief- 
tains engaged at every point in single combat ; and the 
greater part of them on both sides fell. The impetuosity of 
the Irish was irresistible, and their battle-axes did fearful 
execution, every man of the ten hundred mailed warriors of 
Norway having been made to bite the dust, and it was against 
them, we are told, that the Dalcassians had been obliged to 
contend single-handed. The heroic Morrogh performed prod- 
igies of valor throughout the day. Ranks of men fell before 
him ; and, hewing his way to the Danish standard, he cut 
down two successive bearers of it with his battle-axe. Two 
Danish leaders, Carolus and Conmael, enraged at this success, 
rushed on him together, but both fell in rapid succession by 
his sword. Twice, Morrogh and some of his chiefs retired to 
slake their thirst and cool their hands, swollen from the 
violent use of the sword ; and the Danes observing the vigor 




BRIAN ON THE MORNING OF CLONTARF. 

See pages 93, 94. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 97 

with which they returned to the conflict, succeeded, by a des- 
perate effort, in cutting off the brook which had refreshed them. 
Thus the battle raged from an early hour in the morning — 
innumerable deeds of valor being performed on both sides, 
and victory appearing still doubtful, until the third or fourth 
hour in the afternoon, when a fresh and desperate effort was 
made by the Irish, and the Danes, now almost destitute of 
/eaders, began to waver and give way at every point. Just at 
this moment the Norwegian prince, Anrud, encountered 
Morrogh, who was unable to raise his arms from fatigue, but 
with the left hand seized Anrud and hurled him to the earth, 
and with the other placed the point of the sword on the breast 
of the prostrate Northman, and leaning on it plunged it through 
his body. While stooping, however, for this purpose, Anrud 
contrived to inflict on him a mortal wound with a dagger, and 
Morrogh fell in the arms of victorv. Accordmg to other ac- 
counts, Morrogh was in the act of stooping to relieve an 
enemy when he received from him his death wound. Thisdis- 
aster had not the effect of turning the fortune of the day, for the 
Danes and their allies were in a state of utter disorder, and along 
their whole line had commenced to fly towards the city or to 
their ships. They plunged into the Tolka at a time, we may 
conclude, when the river was swollen with the tide, so that 
great numbers were drowned. The body of young Tur- 
logh was found after the battle ' at the weir of Clontarf,' with 
his handsentangled in the hair of a Dane whom he had grappled 
with in the pursuit. 

" But the chief tragedy of the day remains to be related. 
Brodar, the pirate admiral, who commanded in the point 
of the Danish lines remotest from the city, seeing the route 
general, was making his way through some thickets with only 
a few attendants, when he came upon the tent of Brian Bo- 
rumha, left at that moment without his guards. The fierce 
Norseman rushed in and found the aged Mf)narch at praver 
before the Crucifix, which he had that morning held up to the 
view of his troops, and attended only by his page. Yet, 
Brian had time to seize his arms, and died sword in hand. 
The Irish acounts sav that the kinof killed Brodar, and was 



98 THE STORY OF lEELAND. 

only overcome by numbers ; but the Danish version in the 
Niala Saga is more probable, and in this Brodar is represented 
as holding up his reeking sword, and crying: ' Let it be pro- 
claimed from man to man that Brian has been slain by Brodar.' 
It is added; on the same authority, that the ferocious pirate 
was then hemmed in by Brian's returned guards and captured 
alive, and that he was hung from a tree, and continued to rage 
like a beast of prey until all his entrails were torn out — the 
Irish soldiers thus taking savage vengence for the death of their 
king, who but for their own neglect would have been safe."* 

Such was the victory of Clontarf — one of the most glorious 
events in the annals of Ireland ! It was the final effort of the 
Danish power to effect the conquest of this country. Never 
again was that effort renewed. For a century subsequently 
the Danes continued to hold some maritime cities in Ireland ; 
but never more did they dream of conquest. That design was 
overthrown for ever on the bloody plain of Clontarf. 

It was, as the historian called it truly, " a conflict of heroes." 
There was no flinching on either side, and on each side fell near- 
ly every commander of note who had entered battle! The 
list of the dead is a roll of nobility, Danish and Irish ; amongst 
the dead being the brave Caledonian chiefs, the great Stewards 
of Mar and Lennox, who had come from distant Alba to 
fight on the Irish side that dav. 

But direst disaster of all — most woful in its ulterior results 
affecting the fate and fortunes of Ireland — was the slaughter 
of the reigning family : Brian himself, Morrogh, his eldest 
son and destined successor, and his grandson, "the youthful 
Torlagh," eldest child of Morrogh — three generations cut 
down in the one day upon the same field of battle! 

" The fame of the event went out through all nations. The 
chronicles of Wales, of Scotland, and of Man ; the annals of 
Ademar and Marianus ; t the sagas of Denmark and the Isles, 
all record the event. The Norse settlers in Caithness saw 



* Haverty. 
t " Brian, king of Hibernia, slain on Good Friday, the 9th of the calends of May 
(23rd April), with his mind and his hands turned towards God." — Chronicles of Mar- 
ianus Scotus. 



THE STOKY OF IKELAND. 99 

terrific visions of Valhalla ' the day after the battle.' " * " The 
annals state that Brian and Morrogh both lived to receive the 
last sacraments of the Church, and that their remains were 
conveyed by the monks to Swords (near Dublin), and thence to 
Armagh by the Archbishop ; and that their obsequies were 
celebrated for twelve days and nights with great splendor by 
the clergy of Armagh ; after which the body of Brian was 
deposited in a stone coffin on the north side of the high altar 
in the cathedral, the body of his son being interred on the 
south side of the same church. The remains of Torlogh and 
of several of the other chieftains were buried in the old church- 
yard of Kilmainham, where the shaft of an Irish cross still 
marks the spot."t 



XIV.— "AFTER THE BATTLE." THE SCENE "UPON OSSORY'S 
PLAIN." THE LAST DAYS OF NATIONAL FREEDOM. 

foWf HREE days after the battle the decimated but victory- 
cA\\ crowned Irish legions broke up camp and marched 
^^X homewards to their respective provinces, chanting 
C^^ songs of triumph. The Dalcassians (who had suf- 
fered terribly in the battle) found their way barred by a 
hostile prince, Fitzpatrick, lord of Ossory, whose opposing 
numbers vastly exceeded their effective force which indeed was 
barely enough to convey or convoy their wounded homeward 
to Kincora. In this extremity the wounded soldiers entreated 
that they might be allowed to fight with the rest. " Let 
stakes," they said " be driven into the ground, and suffer each 
of us, tu(^ to and supported by one of these stakes, to be placed in 
his rank by the side of a sound man." " Between seven and 
eight hundred wounded men," adds the historian, " pale, ema- 
ciated, and supported in this manner, appeared mixed with 
the foremost of the troops I Never was such another sight 
exhibited ! "if Keating's quaint narrative of the event is well 

• M'Gee. t Haverty. { O'Halloran. 



100 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

worthy of quotation. He says : " Donogh then again gave or- 
ders that one-third of his host should be placed on guard as a 
protection for the wounded, and that the other two-third should 
meet the expected battle. But when the wounded men heard 
of these orders, they sprung up in such haste that their wounds 
and sores burst open ; but they bound them up in moss, and 
grasping their lances and their swords, they came thus equip 
ped into the midst of their comrades. Here they requested of 
Donncadh, -son of Brian, to send some men to the forest with in- 
structions to bring them a number of strong stakes, which they 
proposed to have thrust into the ground, 'and to these 
stakes,' said they, ' let us be bound with our arms in our hands, 
and let our sons and our kinsmen be stationed by our sides; 
and let two warriors, who are unwounded, be placed near 
each one of us wounded, for it is thus that we will help one 
another with liuer zeal, because shame will not allow the 
-sound man to leave his position until his wounded and bound 
comrade can leave it likewise.' This request was complied 
with, and the wounded men were stationed after the manner 
which they had pointed out. And, indeed, that array in 
which the Dalg-Cais were then drawn, was a thing for the 
mind to dwell upon in admiration, for it was a great and amaz- 
ing wonder." 

Our national minstrel, Moore, has alluded to this episode 
.of the return of the Dalcassians in one of the melodies: 

Remember our wounded companions, who stood 

In the day of distress by our side : 
When the moss of the valley grew red with their blood, 

They stirred not, but conquered and died. 
The sun that now blesses our arms with its light 

Saw them fall upon Ossory's plain : 
Oh ! let him not blush, when he leaves us to-night, 

To find that they fell there in vain ! 

With the victory of Clontarf the day of Ireland's unity and 
power as a nation may be said to have ended. The sun of 
her national greatness, that had been waning previously, set 
suddenly in a brilliant flash of glory. If we except the eight 
year immediately following Brian's death, Ireland never more 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 101 

knew the blessing of national unity — never more was a 
kingdom, in the full sense of the word. Malachy Mor — well 
worthy of his title " the great" — the good, the magnani- 
mous, the patriot, and brave king, whom Brian had deposed 
was unanimously recalled to the throne after Brian's death. 
The eight years during which Malachy ruled in this the 
second term of his sovereignty, were marked by every 
evidence of kingly ability and virtue on his part. At length, 
finding death approaching, he retired for greater solitude to 
an island in Lough Ennel (now called Cormorant Island), 
whither repaired sorrowfully to his spiritual succor "Amal- 
gaid, Archbishop of Armagh, the abbots of Clonmacnoise and 
of Durrow, and a good train of clergy ;" and where, as the old 
chronicles relate it " after intense penance, on the fourth of 
the nones of September, died Malachy, the pillar of the dignity 
and nobility of the western world." 

He was the last "unquestioned" monarch of Ireland. The 
interval between his death and the landing ot Henry the 
Second (over one hundred and fifty years) was a period of 
bloody and ruinous contention, that invited — and I had al- 
most said merited — the yoke of a foreign rule. After Mal- 
achy 's death Brian's younger son, Donogh, claimed the 
throne ; but his claim was scorned and repudiated by a moi- 
ety of the princes, who had, indeed, always regarded Brian 
himself as little better than an usurper, though a brave and a 
heroic sovereign. Never afterwards was an Ard-Ri fully and 
iawfully elected or acknowledged. There were frequently 
two or more claimants assuming the title at the same time, and 
desolating the country in their contest for sovereignty. Brian 
had broken the charmed line of regulated succession, that 
had, as I have already detailed, lasted through nearly two 
thousand years. His act was the final blow at the alreadv 
loosened and tottering edifice of centralized national authority. 
While he himself lived, with his own strong hand and pow- 
erful mind to keep all things in order, it was well ; no evil was 
likely to come of the act that supplied a new ground for 
wasting discords and bloody civil strife. But when the pow- 
erful hand and the strong mind had passed away ; when the 



"102 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

splendid talents that had made even the deposed monarch, 
Malachy, bow to their supremacy, no longer availed to 
bind the kingdom into unity and strength, the miseries that 
ensued were hopeless. The political disintegration of Ire- 
land was aggravated a thousand-fold. The idea of national 
unity seemed as completely dead, buried, and forgotten, when 
the Normans came in, as if it never had existence amongst 
the faction-split people of Erinn. 

'T was self-abasement paved the way 
For villain bonds and despot's sway. 

Donogh O'Brien, never acknowledged as i\rd-Ri, was driv- 
en from even his titular sovereignty by his own nephew, 
Torlogh. Aged, broken, and weary, he sailed for Rome> 
where he entered a monastery and ended his life "in penance," 
as the old chronicles say. It is stated that this Donogh took 
with him to Rome the crown and the harp of his father, the 
illustrious Brian, and presented them to the Pope.* This 
donation of his father's diadem to the Pope by Donogh has 
sometimes been referred to as if it implied a bestowal of the 
Irish sovereignty ; a placing of it, as it were, at the disposal 
of the Father of Christendom, for the best interests of faction- 
ruined Ireland herself, and for the benefit of the Christian re- 
ligion. Perhaps the Pope was led so to regard it. But the 
Supreme Pontiff did not know that such a gift was not Don- 
ogh's to give ! Donogh never owned or possessed the Irish 
sovereignty ; and even if he had been unanimously elected 
and acknowledged Ard-Ri (and he never was), the Irish sover. 
eignty was a trust to which the Ard-Ri was elected for lif'e, 
^and which he could not donate even his own son, except Dy 
the consent of the Royal Electors and Free Clans of Erinn. 

* The harp is still in existence. It is in the Museum of Trinity College, Dublin. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 103 




XV.— HOW ENGLr^ND BECAME A COMPACT KINGDOM, WHILE 
IRELAND WAS BREAKING INTO FRAGMENTS. 

E now approach the period at which, for the first time, 
the history of Ireland needs to be read with that of 
England. 
A quarter of a century after the rout of the Danes 
by the Irish at Clontarf, the Anglo-Saxons drove them from 
the English throne, the Anglo-Saxon line being restored in 
the person of Edward the Confessor. A quarter of a century 
subsequently, however, the Anglo-Saxons were again dethron- 
ed, and England was again conquered by new invaders— or 
the old ones with a new name — the Normans. In this last 
struggle, the Anglo-Saxons were aided by troops from Ireland ; 
for the Normans were kith and kin of the Norse foes whom 
Ireland had such reason to hate. An Irish contingent fought 
side by side with the Saxons in their struggle against William ; 
and when the brave but unfortunate Harold fell at Hastings, 
it was to Ireland his children were sent for friendly asylum. 

The Normans treasured a bitter remembrance of this against 
Ireland ; and there is evidence that from the first they meant 
to essay the subjugation of tJiat island also, as soon as they 
should have consolidated their British conquest. These same 
Normans were a brave race. They possessed every quality 
requisite for military conquerors. To the rough fierce vigor 
of the Norse ancestors they had added the military discipline 
and scientific skill which the Gauls had learned from their 
Roman masters. They conquered united England in one 
year. Yet they were yfT'^r ///^//(/7t^/ years unsuccessfully labor- 
ing to conquer ^^/^-united Ireland ! 

During the one hundred and fifty years following Brian's 
death (devoted by the Irish princes to every factious folly and 
crime that could weaken, disorganize, disunite, and demoralize 



104 THE «TORY OF IRELAND. 

their country), the Normans in England were solidifving and 
strengthening their power. England was becoming a compact 
nation, governed by concentrated national authority, and 
possessed of a military organization formidable in numbers 
and in arms, but most of all in scientific mode of warfare and 
perfection of military discipline ; while Ireland, like a noble ves- 
sel amid the breakers, was absolutely going to pieces — break- 
ing up into fragments, or " clans," north, south, east, and west. 
As a natural result of this anarchy or wasting strife of factions, 
social and religious disorders supervened ; and as a historian 
aptly remarks, the " Island of Saints" became an " Island of 
Sinners." The state of religion was deplorable. The rules 
of ecclesiastical discipline were in many places overthrown 
as was nearly every other necessary moral and social safe- 
guard ; and, inevitably, the most lamentable disorders and 
scandals resulted. The bishops vainly sought to calm this fear- 
ful war of factions that was thus ruining the power of a great 
nation, and destroying or disgracing its Christian faith. They 
threatened to appeal to the Supreme Pontiff, and to invoke his 
interposition in behalf of religion thus outraged, and civil 
society thus desolated. St. Malachy, the primate of Armagh, 
the fame of whose sanctity, piety and learning had reached 
all Europe, labored heroically amidst these terrible afflictions. 
He proceeded to Rome, and was received with every mark 
of consideration by the reigning Pope, Innocent the Second, 
who, " descending from his throne, placed his own mitre on 
the head of the Irish saint, presented him with his own vest- 
ments and other religious gifts, and appointed him apostolic 
le'j-ate in the place of Gilbert, bishop of Limerick, then a very 
old man." St. Malachy petitioned the Pope for the necessary 
recognition of the Irish archiepiscopal sees, by the sending 
of the palliums to the archbishops ; but the Pope pointed out 
that so grave a request should proceed from a synod of the 
Irish Church. The primate returned to Ireland; and after 
some time devoted to still more energetic measures to cope 
with the difficulties created by perpetual civil war, he event- 
ually convened a national synod, which was held at Innis- 
Patrick, near Skerries, county Dublin. St. Malachy was 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 105 

authorized again to proceed to the Holy Father, and in the 
name ot the Irish Church beseech him to grant the palliums. 
The aged primate set out on his journey. But while on his 
way, having reached Clairvaux, he was seized with his death- 
sickness, and expired there (2nd November, 1148), attended 
by the great St. Bernard, between whom and the Irish primate 
a personal friendship existed, and a correspondence passed, 
portion of which is still extant. Three years afterwards the 
palliums, sent by Pope Eugene the Third, were brought to 
Ireland by Cardinal Paparo, and were solemnly conferred on 
the archbishops the year following, at a national synod held 
at Kells. 

But all the efforts of the ministers of religion could not 
compensate for the want of a stable civil government in the 
land. Nothing could permanently restrain the fierce violence 
of the chiefs ; and it is clear that at Rome, and throughout 
Europe, the opinion at this time began to gain ground that 
Ireland was a hopeless case. And, indeed, so it must have 
seemed. It is true that the innate virtue and morality of the 
Irish national character began to assert itself the moment 
society was allowed to enjoy the least respite ; it is beyond 
question that, during and after the time of the sainted primate, 
Malachy, vigorous and comprehensive efforts were afoot, 
and great strides made towards reforming the abuses with 
which chronic civil war had covered the land. But, like 
many another reformation, it came too late. Before the ruined 
nation could be reconstituted, the Nemesis of invasion arrived, 
to teach all peoples, by the story of Ireland's fate, that when 
national cohesiveness is gone, national power has departed 
and national sufferinsf is at hand. 



106 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 




XVI. — HOW HENRY THE SECOND FEIGNED WONDROUS ANXIETY 
TO HEAL THE DISORDERS OF IRELAND. 

^^, 

HE grandson of William of Normandy, Conqueror of 
England, Henry the Second, was not an inattentive 
observer of the progressing wreck of the Irish Church 
and Nation. He inherited the Norman design of one 
day conquering Ireland also, and adding that kingdom to his 
Enoflish crown. He was not ignorant that at Rome Ireland 
was regarded as derelict. An Englishmen, Pope Adrain, now 
sat in the Chair of Peter ; and the English ecclesiastical 
authorities, who were in constant communication with the 
Holy See, were transmitting the most alarming accounts of 
the fearful state of Ireland. It is now known that these ac- 
counts were, in many cases, monstrously exaggerated ; but it 
is true that, at best, the state of affairs was very bad. 

The cunning and politic Henry saw his opportunity. Though 
his was the heart of a mere conqueror, sordid and callous, he 
clothed himself in the garb of the most saintly piety, and 
wrote to the Holy Father, calling attention to the state of' 
Ireland, which for over a hundred years had been a scandal 
to Europe. But oh ! it was the state of religion there that 
most afflicted his pious and holy Norman heart ! It was all' 
in the interests of social order, morality, religion, and civihza- 
tion,* that he now approached the Holy Father with a pro- 
position. In those times (when Christendom was an unbroken 
family, of which the Pope was the head), the Supreme Pontiff 
was, by the voice of the nations themselves, invested with a 
certain kind of arbitrative civil authority for the general good. 
And, indeed, even infidel and non-Catholic historians declare to 
us that, on the whole, and with scarcely a possible exception, 



* Even in //^a/ day— seven hundred years ago— English subjugators had learned 
the use of these amiable pretexts for invasion and annexation ! 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 107 

the Popes exerted the authority thus vested in them with a 
pure, unselfish, and exalted anxiety for the general public 
good and the ends of justice, for the advancement of religion, 
learning, civilization, and civil freedom. But this authority 
rested merely on the principle by which the Arcadian farmers 
in Longfellow's poem constituted their venerable pastor 
supreme lawgiver, arbitrator, and regulator in their little 
community ; a practice which, even in our own day, prevails 
within the realms of fact here in Ireland and in other 
countries. 

Henry's proposition to the Pope was that he, the English 
king, should, with the sanction of the Holy Father, and (of 
course) purely in the interests of religion, morality, and social 
order, enter Ireland and restore order in that region of 
anarchy. He pleaded that the Pope was bound to cause 
some such step to be taken, and altogether urged numerous 
grounds for persuading the Pontiff to credit his professions 
as to his motives and designs. Pope Adrian is said to have 
complied. by issuing a bull approving of Henry's scheme as 
presented to hivi, and with the purposes and on the conditions 
therein set forth. There is no such bull now to be found in 
the Papal archives, yet it is credited that some such bull was 
issued; but its contents, terms, and permissions have been 
absurdly misrepresented and exaggerated in some versions 
coined by English writers. 

The Papal bull or letter once issued, Henry had gained his 
point. He stored away the document until his other plans 
should be ripe ; and, meanwhile, having no longer any need 
of feigning great piety and love for religion, he flung off the 
mask and entered upon that course of conduct which, culmin- 
ating in the murder of St. Thomas A'Becket, Archbishop . 
of Canterbury, drew down upon him the excommunication 
of Rome. 

Meantime events were transpiring in Ireland destined to 
afford him a splendid opportunity for practically availing of 
his fraudulently obtained Papal letter, and making a com- 
mencement in his scheme of Irish C()nquest. 



108 THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 



XVII. — THE TREASON OF DIARMID M'MURROGH. 



(^f?: 




V V 



BOUT the year 1152, in the course of the intermin- 
able civil war desolating Ireland, a feud of peculiar 
bitterness arose between Tiernan O'Ruarc, prince 
y^^ of Brefni, and Diarmid M'Mnrrogh, prince of Lein- 
ster. While one of the Ard-Righana favorable to the latter 
was for the moment uppermost, O'Ruarc had been dispossessed 
of his territory, its lordship being handed over to M'Murrogh. 
To this was added a wrong still piore dire. Devorgilla, the 
wife of O'Ruarc, eloped with INI'Murrogh, already her hus- 
bands most bitter rival and foe ! Her father and her husband 
both appealed to Torlogh O'Connor for justice upon the guilty 
prince of Leinster. O'Connor, although jNTMurrogh had been 
one of his supporters, at once acceded to this request. M'jNIur- 
rogh soon found his territory surrounded, and Devorgilla was 
restored to her husband. She did not however return to 
domestic life. Recent researches amongst the ancient " Man- 
uscript Materials for IrishHistory," by O'Curry and O'Dono. 
van, throw much light upon this episode, and considerably 
alter the long prevailing popular impressions in reference 
thereto. Whatever the measure of Devorgilla's fault in elo- 
ping with M'Murrogh — and the researches alluded to bring 
to light many circumstances invoking for her more of com- 
miseration than of angry scorn — her whole life subsequently 
to this sad event, and she lived for forty years afterwards, was 
one prolonged act of contrition and of penitential reparation 
for the scandal she had given. As I have already said, she 
did not return to the home she had abandoned. She entered 
a religious retreat ; and thenceforth, while living a life of prac- 
tical piety, penance, and mortification, devoted the immense 
dower which she possessed in her own right, to works of 
charity, relieving the poor, building hospitals, asylums, con- 
vents, and churches. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 109 

-Thirteen years after this event, Roderick O'Connor, son 
and successor of the king who had forced M'Murrogh to yield 
up the unhappy Devorgilla, claimed the throne of the kingdom. 
Roderick was a devoted friend of O'Ruarc, and entertained no 
very warm feelings towards M'Murrogh. The king claimant 
marched on his " circuit," claiming " hostages" from the local 
princes as recognition of sovereignty. M'Murrogh, who 
hated Roderick with intense violence, burned his city of Ferns, 
and retired to his Wicklow fastnesses, rather than yield alle- 
giance to him. Roderick could not just then delay on his 
circuit to follow him up, but passed on southward, took up 
his hostages there, and then returned to settle accounts with 
M'Murrogh. But by. this time O'Ruarc, apparently only too 
glad to have such a pretext and opportunity for a stroke at 
his mortal foe, had assembled a powerful army and marched 
upon M'Murrogh from the north, while Roderick approached 
him from the south. Diarmid, thus surrounded, and deserted 
by most of his own people, outwitted and overmatched on all 
sides, saw that he was a ruined man. He abandoned the few 
followers yet remaining to him, ffed to the nearest seaport, 
and, with a heart bursting with the most deadly passions, 
sailed for England (a.d. ii68), vowing vengeance, black, bit- 
ter, and terrible, on all that he left behind ! 

" A solemn sentence of banishment was publicly pronounced 
against him by the assembled princes, and Morrogh, his 
cousin — commonly called 'Morrogh na Gael,' (or 'of the 
Irish,') to distinguish him from ' Morrogh na Gair (or 'of the 
Foreigners') — was inaugurated in his stead."* 

Straightway he sought out the English king, who was just 
then in Aquitaine quelling a revolt of the nobles in that por- 
tion of his possessions. M'Murrogh laid before Henry a most 
piteous recital of his wrongs and grievances, appealed to him 
for justice and for aid, inviting him to enter Ireland, which he 
was sure most easily to reduce to his sway, and finally offer- 
ing to become his most submissive vassal if his majesty would 
but aid him in recovering the possessions from which he had 



M'Gee. 



IIQ THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

been expelled. " Henry," as one of our historians justly re- 
marks, " must have been forcibly struck by such an invitation 
to carry out a project which he had long entertained, and for 
which he had been making grave preparations long before." 
He was too busy himself, however, just then to enter upon 
the project; but he gave M'Murrogh a royal letter or pro- 
clamation authorizing such of his subjects as might so desire 
to aid the views of the Irish fugitive. Diarmid hurried back 
to England, and had all publicity given to this proclamation 
in his favor; but though he made the most alluring offers of 
reward and booty, he was a long time before he found any 
one to espouse his cause. At length Robert Fitzstephen, a 
Norman relative of the prince of North Wales, just then held 
in prison by his Cambrian kinsman, was released or brought 
out of prison by M'Murrogh, on condition of undertaking his 
service. Through Fitzstephen there came into the enterprise 
several other knights, Maurice Fitzgerald, Meyler Fitzhenry, 
and others — all of them men of supreme daring, but of needy 
circumstances. Eventually there joined one who was destined 
to take command of them all. Richard de Clare, earl of Pem- 
broke, commonly called " Strongbow ;" a man of ruined for- 
tune, needy, greedy, unscrupulous, and ready for any desper- 
ate adventure ; possessing unquestionable military skill and 
reckless daring, and having a tolerably strong following of like 
adventurous spirits amongst the knights of the Welsh marches 
— in fine, just the man for Diarmid's purpose. The terms 
were soon settled. Strongbow and his companions undertook 
to raise a force of adventurers, proceed to Ireland with 
M'Murrogh, and reinstate him in his principality. M'Mur- 
rogh was to bestow on Strongbow (then a widower between 
fifty and sixty years of age) his daughter Eva in marriage, 
with succession to the throne of Leinster. Large grants of 
land also were to be distributed amongst the adventurers. 

Now, Diarmid knew that " succession to the throne " was 
not a matter which any king in Ireland, whether provincial 
or national, at any time could bestow ; the monarchy being 
elective out of the members of the reigning family. Even if 
he was himself at the time in full legal possession of " the 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. Ill 

throne of Leinster," he could not promise, secure, or bequeath 
it, as of right, even to his own son. 

In the next place, Diarmid knew that his offers of" grants 
of land" struck directly and utterly at the existing land system, 
the basis of all society in Ireland. For, according to the Irish 
constitution and laws for a thousand years, the fee-simple or 
ozvnerskip of the soil was vested in the sept, tribe, or clan ; its 
use or ocaipancy (by the individual members of the sept or 
others) being only regulated on behalf of and in the interest 
of the whole sept, by the elected king for the time being. 
"Tribe land" could not be alienated unless by the king, with 
the sanction of the sept. The users and occupiers were, so to 
speak, a cooperative society of agriculturists, who as a body or 
a community, owned the soil they tilled, while individually 
renting it from that body or community under its admin- 
istrative official — the king. 

While Strongbow and his confederates were completing 
their arrangements in Chester, M'Murrogh crossed over to 
his native Wexford privately to prepare the way there for 
their reception. It would seem that no whisper had reached 
Ireland of his movements, designs, proclamations, and prepar- 
ations on the other side of the channel. The wolf assumed 
the sheep's clothing. M'Murrogh feigned great humility and 
contrition, and pretended to aspire only to the recovery, by 
grace and favor, of his immediate patrimony of Hy-Kinsella, 
Amongst his own immediate clansmen, no doubt, he found a 
friendly meeting and a ready following, and, more generally, 
a feeling somewhat of commiseration for one deemed to be now 
so fallen, so helpless, so humiliated. This secured him from 
very close observation, and greatly favored the preparations 
he was stealthily making to meet the Norman expedition with 
stout help on the shore. 



112 



IHE STORY OF IRELAND. 



XVIII. — HOW THE NORMAN ADVENTURERS GOT A FOOTHOLD 

ON IRISH SOIL.. 




H E fatal hour was now at hand 
Early in the month of May. 
a small flotilla of strange ves- 
sels ran into a little creek on 
the Wexford coast, near Bannow, 
and disembarked an armed force up- 
on the shore. This was the advanced 
guard of the Norman invasion ; a 
party of thirty knights, sixty men in 
armor, and three hundred footmen, under Robert Fitzstephen. 
Next da}' at the same point of disembarkation arrived Mau- 
rice de Prendergast, a Welsh gentleman who had joined the 
enterprise, bringing with him an additional force. Camping 
on the coast, they quickly despatched a courier to M'Murrogh 
to say that they had cofne. Diarmid hastened to the spot 
with all the men he could rally. The joint force at once 
marched upon and laid siege to Wexford, which town, after a 
oallant defence, capitulated to them.- Elate with this impor- 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 113 

tant victory, and strengthened in numbers, Diarmid no\r 
marched into Ossory. Here he was confronted by Fitz- 
patrick, prince of Ossory, commanding, however, a force 
quite inferior to M'Murrogh's. A sanguinary engagement 
ensued. The Ossorians bravely held their own throughout 
jthe day, until decoyed from their chosen position into an 
open ground where the Norman cavalry had full play, the 
" poise of the beam'' was turned against them ; they were 
thrown into confusion, pressed by the enemy, and at length 
overthrown with great slaughter, 

Roderick the Second, titular Ard-Ri, now awakened to the 
necessity of interposing with the national forces ; 7wt as 
against an invasion ; for at this period, and indeed for some 
time afterwards, none of the Irish princes attached such a 
character or meaning to the circumstance that M'Murrogh 
had enlisted into his service some men of England. It was to 
check M'Murrogh, the deposed king of Leinster, in his 
hostile proceedings, that the Ard-Ri summoned the national 
forces to meet him at the Hill of Tara. The provincial 
princes, with their respective forces, assembled at his call; 
but had scarcely done so, when, owing to some contention, 
the northern contingent, under Mac Dunlevy, prince of Ulidia, 
withdrew. With the remainder, however, Roderick marched 
upon Ferns, the Lagenian capital, where M'Murrogh had 
entrenched himself. Roderick appears to have exhibited 
weakness and vacillation in the crisis, when boldness, 
promptitude, and vigor were so vitally requisite. He began 
to parley and diplomatise with M'Murrogh, who cunningly 
feigned willingness to agree to any terms ; for all he secretly 
desired was to gain time till Strongbow and the full force 
from Wales would be at his side. M'Murrogh, with much 
show of moderation and humility, agreed to a treaty with the 
Ard-Ri, by which the sovereignty of Leinster was restored to 
him ; and he, on the other hand, solemnly bound himself by a 
secret clause, guaranteed by his own son as hostage, that he 
would bring over no more foreigners to serve in his army. 

No suspicion of any such scheme as an invasion seems even 
for an instant to have crossed the monarch's mind ; yet he 



114 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

wisely saw the danger of importing a foreign force into the 
country. He and the other princes really believed that the 
only object M'Murrogh had was to regain the sovereignty of 
Leinster. 

The crafty and perfidious Diarmid in this treaty gained 
the object he sought — time. Scarcely had Roderick and the 
national forces retired, than the Leinster king, hearing that 
a further Norman contingent, under Maurice Fitzgerald, had 
landed at Wexford, marched upon Dublin — then held by the 
Danes under their prince Hasculf Mac Turkill, tributary to 
the Irish Ard-Ri — and set up a claim to the monarchy of 
Ireland. The struggle was now fully inaugurated. Soon 
after a third Norman force, under Raymond le Gros (or " the 
Fat"), landed in Waterford estuary, on the Wexford side, and 
hastily fortified themselves on the rock of Dundonolf, await- 
ing the main force under Strongbovv. 

And now we encounter the evil and terrible results of the 
riven and disorganized state of Ireland, to which I have al- 
ready sufficiently adverted. The hour at last had come, when 
the curse was to work, when the punishment was to fall ! 
. It was at such a moment as this — ^just as Roderick was 
again preparing to take the field to crush the more fully 
developed designs of Diarmid — that Donogh O'Brien, Prince 
of Thomond, chose to throw off allegiance to the Ard-Ri, and 
precipitate a civil war in the very face of a foreign invasion ! 
Meanwhile, Strongbow was on the point of embarking at 
Milford Haven with a most formidable force, when king 
Henry, much mistrusting the adventurous and powerful 
knight — and having, secretly, his own designs about Ireland, 
which he feared the ambition of Strongbow, if successful, 
might thwart — imperatively forbade his sailing. Strongbow 
disregarded the royal mandate, and set sail with his fleet. He 
landed at Waterford (23rd August, 1171), and joined by the 
force of Raymond, which had been cooped up in their fort on 
the rock of Dundonolf, laid siege to the city. Waterford, like 
Dublin, was a Dano-Irish city, and was governed and com- 
manded by Reginald, a prince of Danish race. The neighbor- 
ing Irish under O'Felan, prince of the Deisi. patnoticallv 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 115 

hurried to the assistance of the Danish citizens ; and the city 
was defended with a heroism equal to that of the three hun- 
dred at Thermopylae. Again and again the assailants were 
hurled from the walls; but at length the Norman sieging skill 
prevailed; a breach was effected ; the enemy poured into the 
town, and a scene of butchery shocking to contemplate ensued. 
Diarmid arrived just in time to congratulate Strongbow on 
this important victory. He had brought his daughter Eva 
with him, and amidst the smoking and bloodstained ruins of 
the city the nuptials of the Norman knight and the Irish 
princess were celebrated. 

Strongbow and M'Murrogh now marched for Dublin. 
The Ard-Ri, who had meantime taken the field, made an 
effort to intercept them, but he was out-manoeuvred, and they 
reached and commenced to siege the city. The citizens 
sought a parley. The fate of Waterford had struck terror in- 
to them. They dispatched to the besiegers* camp as negotia- 
tor or mediator their archbishop, Laurence, or Lorcan O'Tua- 
hal, the first prelate of Dublin of Irish origin. 

" This illustrious man, canonized both by sanctity and 
patriotism, was then in the thirty-ninth year of his age, and 
the ninth of his episcopate. His father was lord of Imayle 
and chief of his clan ; his sister had been wife of Dermid and 
mother of Eva, the prize bride of Earl Richard. He himself 
had been a hostage with Dermid in his youth, and afterwards 
abbot of Glendalough, the most celebrated monastic city of 
Leinster. He stood, therefore, to the besieged, being their chief 
pastor, in the relation of a father ; to Dermid, and strangely 
enough to Strongbow also, as brother-in-law and uncle by 
marriage. A fitter ambassador could not be found. 

" Maurice Regan, the ' Latiner,' or secretary of Dermid, 
had advanced to the walls and summoned the city to surren- 
der, and deliver up ' thirty pledges' to his master their lawful 
prince. Asculph, son of Torcall, was in favor of the sur- 
render, but the citizens could not agree among themselves as 
to hostages. No one was willing to trust himself to the 
notoriously untrustworthy Dermid. The Archbishop was then 
sent out on the part of the citizens to arrange the terms in 



116 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

detail. He was received with all reverence in the camp, but 
while he was deliberating with the commanders without, and 
the townsmen were anxiously awaiting his return, Milo de 
Cogan and Raymond the Fat, seizing the opportunity, broke 
into the city at the head of their companies, and began to put 
the inhabitants ruthlessly to the sw^ord. They were soon fol- 
lowed by the whole force eager for massacre and pillage. 
The Archbishop hastened back to endeavor to stay the havoc 
which was being made of his people. He threw himslf be- 
fore the infuriated Irish and Normans, he threatened, he de- 
nounced, he bared his own breast to the swords of the assas- 
sins. All to little purpose : the blood fury exhausted itself 
before peace settled over the city. Its Danish chief Asculph, 
with many of his followers, escaped to their ships, and fled to 
the Isle of Man and the Hebrides in search of succor and re- 
venge. Roderick, unprepared to besiege the enemy who had 
outmarched and outwitted him, at that season of the year — it 
could not be earlier than October — broke up his encampment 
at Clondalkin and retired to Connaught. Earl Richard hav- 
ing appointed De Cogan his governor of Dublin, followed on 
the rear of the retreating Ard-Righ, at the instigation of 
M'Murrogh, burning and plundering the churches of Kells, 
Clonard, and Slane, and carrying off the hostages of East- 
Meath."* 

Roderick, having first vainly noticed M'Murrogh to return 
to his allegiance on forfeit of the life of his hostage, beheaded 
the son of Diarmid, who had been given as surety for his 
father's good faith at the treaty of Ferns. Soon after 
M'Murrogh himself died, and his end, as recorded in the 
chronicles, was truly horrible. " His death, which took place 
in less than a year after his sacrilegious church burnings in 
Meath, is described as being accompanied by fearful evidence 
of divine displeasure. He died intestate and without the 
sacraments of the Church. His disease was of some unknown 
and loathsome kind, and was attended with insufferable pain, 
which, acting on the naturally savage violence of his temper, 



'M'Gee. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 117 

rendered him so furious, that his ordinary attendants must have 
been afraid to approach him, and his body become at once a 
putrid mass, so that its presence above ground could not be 
endured. Some historians suggest that this account of his 
death may have been the invention of enemies, yet it is so 
consistent with what we know of M'Murrogh's character 
and career from other sources, as to be noways incredible. 
He was at his death eighty-one years of age, and is known 
in Irish history as Diarmaid-na-Gall, or Dermot of the 
Foreigners." 

An incident well calculated to win our admiration presents 
itself, in the midst of the dismal chapter I have just sketched 
in outline ; an instance of chivalrous honor and good faith on 
the part of a Norman lord in behalf of an Irish chieftain! 
Maurice de Prendergast was deputed by Earl " Strongbow " 
as envoy to Mac Gilla Patrick, prince of Ossory, charged to 
invite him to a conference in the Norman camp. Prendergast 
undertook to prevail upon the Ossorian prince to comply, on 
receiving from Strongbow a solemn pledge that good faith 
would be observed towards the Irish chief, and that he should 
be free and safe coming and returning. Relying on this 
pledge, Prendergast bore the invitation to Mac Gilla Patrick, 
and prevailed upon him to accompany him to the earl. " Un- 
derstanding, however, during the conference," says the his- 
torian, " treachery was about to be used towards Mac Gilla 
Patrick, he rushed into Earl Strongbow's presence and, ' sware 
by the cross of his sword that no man there that day should dare 
lay handes on the kyng of Ossery.' " And well kept he his word. 
Out of the camp, when the conference ended, rode the Irish 
chief, and by his side, good sword in hand, that glorious type 
of honor and chivalry, Prendergast, ever since named in Irish 
tradition and history as " the Faithful Norman " — " faithful 
among the faithless " we might truly say ! Scrupulously did 
he redeem his word to the Irish prince. He not only con- 
ducted him safely back to his own camp, but encountering on 
the way a force belonging to Strongbow's ally, O'Brien, re- 
turning from a foray into Ossory, he attacked and defeated 
them. That night "the faithful Norman," remained, as the 



118 THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 

old chronicler has it, " in the woods," the guest of the Irish chief, 
and next day returned to the English lines. This truly pleas- 
ing episode — this little oasis of chivalrous honor in the midst 
of a trackless expanse of treacherous and ruthless warfare 
has been made the subject of a short poem by Mr. Aubrey 
De Vere, in his Lyrical Chronicle of Ireland : 

THE FAITHFUL NORMAN. 
Praise to the valiant and faithful foe ! 

Give us noble foes, not the friend who lies ! 
We dread the drugged cup, not the open blow : 

We dread the old hate in the new disguise. 

To Ossory's king they had pledged their word : 

He stood in their camp, and their pledge they broke 

Then Maurice the Norman upraised his sword ; 
The cross on its hilt he kiss'd, and spoke : 

" So long as this sword or. this arm hath might, 

I swear by the cross which is lord of all 
By the faith and honor of noble and knight, 

Who touches you, prince, by this hand shall fall! '' 

So side by side through the throng they pass'd ; 

And Eire gave praise to the just and true. 
Brave foe ! the past truth heals at last : 

There is room in the great heart of Eire for you ! 

It is nigh seven hundred years since " the faithful Norman " 
linked the name of Prendergast to honor and chivalry on Irish 
soil. Those who have read that truly remarkable work, 
Prendergast's Cromwellian Settlement of Ireland, will conclude 
that the spirit of Maurice is still to be found amongst some of 
those who bear his name. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 121 



XIX. — HOW HENRY RECALLED THE ADVENTURERS. HOW HE 
CAME OVER HIMSELF TO PUNISH THEM AND BEFRIEND THE 
IRISH. 

_"» 

TRONGBOW having- now assumed the sovereignty of 

Leinster, king Henry's jealousy burst into a flame. 

^^ji^ He issued a proclamation ordering Strongbow and 

'^ every other Englishman in Ireland to return forth- 
with to England on pain of outlawry ! Strongbow hurriedly 
despatched ambassador after ambassador to soothe Henry's 
anger ; but all was vain. At length he hastened to England 
himself, and found the English sovereign assembling an 
enormous fleet and army with the intent of himself invading 
Ireland ! The crafty knight humiliated himself to the utmost ;. 
yet it was with great difficulty the king was induced even to 
grant him audience. When he did, Strongbow, partly by his 
own most abject protestations of submission, and partly by the 
aid of mediators, received the royal pardon for his contumacy^ 
and was confirmed in his grants of land in Wexford. 

Early in October 1171, Henry sailed with his armada of 
over four hundred ships, with a powerful army ; and on the 
i8th of that month landed at Crooch, in Waterford harbor. 
In his train came the flower of the Norman knights, captains, 
and commanders ; and even in the day of Ireland's greatest 
unity and strength she would have found it difficult to cope 
with the force which the English king now led into the land. 

Coming in such kingly power, and with all the pomp and pa- 
geantry with which he was particularly careful to surround 
himself — studiously polished, politic, plausible, dignified, and 
courtierlike towards such of the Irish princes as came within his 
presence — proclaiming himself by word and act angry with 
the lawless and ruthless proceedings of Strongbow, Raymond, 
Fitzstephen, and Fitzgerald — Henry seems to have appeared 



122 THE STORY OF lEELAND. 

to the Irish of the neighborhood something like an illustrious 
deliverer! They had full and public knowledge of his strong 
•proclamation against Strongbow and his companions, calling 
upon all the Norman auxiliaries of Dermot \.o return forthwith 
to England on pain of outlawry. On every occasion subsequent 
to his landing Henry manifested a like feeling and purpose ; 
■so much so that the Irish of Wexford, who had taken Fitz- 
stephen prisoner, sent a deputation to deliver him up to be dealt 
with by Henry, and the king imprisoned him forthwith in Regin- 
ald's tower to await further sentence ! In fine, Henry pretended 
to come as an angry king to chastise his own contumacious 
subjects — the Norman auxiliaries of the Leinster prince — and 
to adjudicate upon the complicated issues which had arisen 
out of the treaties of that prince with them. This most smooth 
and plausible hypocrisy, kept up with admirable skill, threw the 
Irish utterly off their guard, and made them regard his visit 
as the reverse of hostile or undesirable. As I have alread}' 
pointed out, the idea of national unity was practically defunct 
among the Irish at the time. For more than a hundred years 
it had been very much a game of " every one for himself " 
(varied with " every man against every body else ") with them. 
There was no stable or enduring national government or central 
authority in the land, since Brian's time. The nakedly hostile 
and sanguinary invasion of Strongbow they were all ready 
enough, in their disintegrated and ill-organized way, to con- 
front and bravely resist to the death ; and had Henry on this 
occasion really appeared to them to come as an invader, the}' 
would have instantly encountered him sword in hand ; a truth 
most amply proven by the fact that when subsequently (but 
.too late) they found out the real nature of the English designs, 
not all the power of united, compact, and mighty England was 
able, for hundreds and hundreds of years, to subdue the bro- 
ken and weakened, deceived and betrayed, but still heroic 
Irish nation. 

Attracted by the fame of Henry's magnanimity, the splen- 
dor of his power, the (supposed) justice and friendliness of his 
intentions, the local princes one by one arrived at his tempor- 
;ary court, where they were dazzled by the pomp, and caressed 



THE STOBY OF IRELAND. 123 

by the courtier affabilities, of the great English king. To 
several of them it seems very quickly to have occurred, that, 
considering the ruinously distracted and demoralized state of 
the country and the absence of any strong central govern- 
mental authority able to protect any one of them against the 
capricious lawlessness of his neighbors, the very best thing 
they could do — possibly for the interests of the whole country, 
certainly for their own particular personal or local interests — 
would be to constitute Henry a friendly arbitrator, regulator, 
and protector, on a much wider scale than (as tJiey imagined) 
he intended. The wily Englishman only wanted the whisper 
of such a desirable pretext. It was just what he had been 
angling for. Yes ; he, the mighty and magnanimous, the just 
and friendly, English sovereign would accept the position. 
They should all, to this end, recognize him as a nominal liege 
lord ; and then he on the other hand, would undertake to 
regulate all their differences, tranquillize the island, and 
guarantee to each individual secure possession of his own ter- 
ritory. 

Thus, by a smooth and plausible diplomacy, Henry found 
himself, with the consent or at the request of the southern 
Irish princes, in a position which he never could have attain- 
ed, except through seas of blood, if he had allowed them to 
suspect that he came as a hostile invader, not as a neighbor 
and powerful friend. 

From Waterford he marched to Cashel, and from Cashel to 
Dublin, receiving on the way visits from the several local 
princes; and now that the news spread that the magnanimous 
English king had consented to be their arbitrator, protector, 
and liege lord, every one of them that once visited Henry 
went away wheedled into adhesion to the scheme. Amongst 
the rest was Donald O'Brien, prince of Thomond, who the 
more readily gave in his adhesion to the new idea, for that he, 
as I have already mentioned of him, had thrown off allegiance 
to Roderick, the titular Ard-Ri, and felt the necessity of pro- 
tection by some one against the probable consequences of his 
conduct. Arrived at Dublin, Henry played the king on a 
still grander scale. A vast palace of wicker-work was erect- 



124 THE STOEY OF IKELAND. 

ed * for his especial residence; and here, during the winter, 
he kept up a continued round of feasting, hospitahtj, pomp, 
and pageantry. Every effort was used to attract the Irish 
princes to the royal court, and once attracted thither, Henry 
made them the object of the most flattering attentions. They 
were made to feel painfully the contrast between the marked 
superiority inelegance, wealth, civilization — especially in new- 
species of armor and weapons, and in new methods of war 
and military tactics — presented by the Norman-English, and 
the backwardness of their own country in each particular; a 
change wrought, as they well knew, altogether or mainly 
within the last hundred and fifty years! 

Where was the titular Ard-Ri all this time? Away in his 
western home, sullen and perplexed, scarcely knowing what 
to think of this singular and unprecedented turn of affairs. 
Henry tried hard to persuade Roderick to visit him; but 
neither Roderick nor any of the northern princes could be 
persuaded to an interview with the English king. On the 
contrary, the Ard-Ri, when he heard that Henry was likely 
to come westward and visit him, instantly mustered an army 
and boldly took his stand at Athlone, resolved to defend the 
integrity and independence of at least his own territory. 
Henry, however, disclaimed the idea of conflict ; and, once 
again trusting more to smooth diplomacy than to the sword, 
despatched two ambassadors to the Irish titular monarch. 
The result was, according to some English versions of very 
doubtful and suspicious authority, that R :»derick so far came 
in to the scheme of constituting Henry general suzeraine, as 
to agree to ofler it no opposition on condition (readily acced- 
ed to by the ambassadors) that his own sovereignty, as, at 
least, next in supremacy to Henry, should be recognized. 
But there is no reliable proof that Roderick made any such 
concession, conditional or unconditional ; and most Irish his- 
torians reject the story. 

Having spent the Christmas in Dublin, and devoted the 

* On the spot where now stands the Protestant church of St. Andrew, St. Andrew 
Street, Dublin. 



THE STOEY OF IKELAND. 125 

winter season to feasting and entertainment on a right royal 
scale, Henry now set about exercising his authority as gene- 
ral pacificator and regulator ; and his first exercise of it was 
marked by that profound policy and sagacity which seem to 
have guided all his acts since he landed. He began, not by 
openly aggrandising himself or his followers — that might have 
excited suspicion — but by evidencing a deep and earnest sol- 
icitude for the state of religion in the country. This strength- 
ened the opinion that estimated him as a noble, magnanimous, 
unselfish, and friendly protector, and it won for him the favor 
of the country. As his first exercise of general authority in the 
land, he convened a synod at Cashel ; and at this synod, the 
decrees of which are known, measures were devised for the 
repression and correction of such abuses and irregularities in 
connection with religion as were known to exist in the coun- 
try. Yet, strange to say, we find by the statutes and decrees 
of this synod nothing of a doctrinal nature requiring correc- 
tion ; nothing more serious calling for regulation than what 
is referred to in the following enactments then made : — 

1. That the prohibition of marriage within the canonical 
degrees of consanguinity be enforced. 

2. That children should be regularly catechized before the 
church door in each parish. 

3. That children should be baptized in the public fonts of 
the parish churches. 

4. That regular tithes should be paid to the clergy rather 
than irregular donations from time to time. 

5. That church lands should be exempt from the exaction 
of " livery," etc. 

6. That the clergy should not be liable to any share of the 
eric or blood-fine, levied off the kindred of a man guilty of 
homicide. 

7. A decree regulating wills. 

Such and no more were the reforms found to be necessary 
in the Irish Church under Henry's own eye, notwithstanding 
all the dreadful stories he had been hearing, and which he 
(not without addition by exaggeration) had been so carefully 
forwarding to Rome for years before! Truth and candor, 



126 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

however, require the confession, that the reason wh}^ there 
was so little, comparatively, needing to be set right just then, 
was because there had been during, and ever since, St. Mal- 
achy's time vigorous efforts on the part of the Irish prelates, 
priests, princes, and people themselves, to restore and repair 
the ruins caused by long years of bloody convulsion. 

The synod over, Henry next turned his attention to civil 
affairs. He held a royal court at Lismore, whereat he made 
numerous civil appointments and regulations for the govern- 
ment of the territories and cities possessed by the Norman 
allies of the late prince of Leinster, or those surrendered by 
Irish princes to himself. 

While Henry was thus engaged in adroitly causing his 
authority to be gradually recognized, respected, and obeyed 
in the execution of peaceful, wise, and politic measures for the 
general tranquillity and welfare of the country — for, from the 
hour of his landing, he had not spilled one drop of Irish blood, 
nor harshly treated a native of Ireland — he suddenly found 
himself summoned to England by gathering troubles there. 
Papal commissioners had arrived in his realm of Normandy 
to investigate the murder of St. Thomas A'Becket, and threat- 
ening to lay England under an interdict, if Henry could not 
clear or purge himself of guilty part in that foul deed. There 
was nothing for it. but to hasten thither with all speed,abandon- 
ing for the time his Irish plans and schemes, but taking the 
best means he could to provide meantime for the retention of 
his power and authority in the realm of Ireland. 

I do not hesitate to express my opinion that, as the Nor- 
mans had fastened at all upon Ireland, it was unfortunate that 
Henry was called away at this juncture. No one can for an 
instant rank side by side the naked and heartless rapacity and 
bloody ferocity of the Normans who preceded and who suc- 
ceeded him in Ireland, with the moderation, the statesmanship, 
and the tolerance exhibited by Henry while remaining here. 
Much of this, doubtless, was policy on his part; but such a 
policy, though it might result in bringing the kingdom of Ire- 
land under the same crown with England many centuries 
sooner than it was so brought eventually by other means, 



THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 127 

would have spared our country centuries of slaughter, perse- 
cution, and suffering unexampled in the annals of the world. 
There are abundant grounds for presuming that Henry's 
views and designs originally were wise and comprehensive, 
and certainly the reverse of sanguinary. He meant simply to 
win the sovereignty of another kingdom ; but the spirit in 
which the Normans who remained and who came after him 
in Ireland acted was that of mere freebooters — rapacious and 
merciless plunderers — whose sole redeeming trait was their 
indomitable pluck and undaunted bravery. 




XX. — HOW HENRY MADE A TREATY WITH THE IRISH KING 

AND DID NOT KEEP IT. 

OON the Irish began to learn the difference between 
^ king Henry's friendly courtesies and mild adjudica- 
tions, and the rough iron-shod rule of his needv, 
covetous, and lawless lieutenants. On all sides the 
Normans commenced to encroach upon, outrage, and despoil 
the Irish, until, before three years had elapsed, Henry, found 
all he had won in Ireland lost, and the English power there 
apparently at the last extremity. A signal defeat which 
Strongbow encountered in one of his insolent forays, at the 
handsof O'Brien, princeof Thomond, was thesignalfora gene- 
ral assault upon the Normans. They were routed on all sides ; 
Strongbow himself being chased into and cooped up with a 
few men in a fortified tower in Waterford. But this simulta- 
neous outbreak lacked the unity of direction, the reach of 
purpose, and the perseverance which would cause it to ac- 
complish permanent rather than transitory results. The Irish 
gave no thought to the necessity of following up their victor- 
ies ; and the Norman power, on the very point of extinction, 
was allowed slowly to recruit and extend itself again. 

Henry was sorely displeased to find affairs in Ireland in this 
condition ; but, of course, the versions which reached hime 



128 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

laid all the blame on the Irish, and represented the Norman set- 
tlers as meek and peaceful colonists driven to defend themselves 
against treacherous savages. The English monarch, unable 
to repair to Ireland himself, bethought him of the Papal let- 
ters, and resolved to try their influence on the Irish. He 
accordingly commissioned William Fitzadelm De Burgo and 
Nicholas, the prior of Wallingford, to proceed with these 
documents to Ireland, and report to him on the true state of 
affairs there. These royal commissioners duly reached that 
country, and we are told that, having assembled the Irish pre- 
lates, the Papal letters were read. But no chronicle, English 
or Irish, tells us what was said by the Irish bishops on hearing 
them read. Very likely there were not wanting prelates to 
point out that the Pope had been utterly misinformed and 
kept in the dark as to the truth about Ireland; and that so 
far the bulls were of no valid force as such ; that as to the au- 
thority necessary to king Henry to effect the excellent designs 
he professed, it had already been pretty generally yielded to 
him for such purpose by the Irish princes themselves without 
these letters at all : that,/^r the purposes and on the conditions 
specified in the Papal letters, he was likely to receive every 
cooperation from the Irish princes ; but that it was quite an- 
other thing if he expected them to yield themselves up to be 
plundered and enslaved — that they would resist for ever and 
ever; and if there was to be peace, morality, or religion in the 
land, it was his own Norman lords and governors he should 
recall or curb. 

Very much to this effect was the report of the royal com- 
missioners when they returned, and as if to confirm the con- 
clusion that these were the views of the Irish prelates and 
princes at the time, we find the Irish monarch, Roderick, send- 
ing special ambassadors to king Henry to negotiate a formal 
treaty, recording and regulating the relations which were to 
exist between them. "In September, 1 175," we are told, "the 
Irish monarch sent over to England as his plenipotentiaries, 
Catholicus O'Duffy, the archbishop of Tuam ; Concors, abbot 
of St. Brendan's of Clonfert : and a third, who is called Mas- 
ter Laurence, his chancellor, but who was no other than the 



THE STOEY OF lEELAND. 129 

holy Archbishop of Dubhn, as we know that that illustrious 
man was one of those who signed the treaty on this occasion. 
A great council was held at Windsor, within the octave of 
Michaelmas, and a treaty was agreed on, the articles of which 
were to the effect, that Roderick was to be king under Henry, 
rendering him service as his vassal ; that he was to hold his 
hereditary territory of Connaught in the same way as before 
the coming of Henry into Ireland ; that he was to have juris- 
diction and dominion over the rest of the island, includinof its 
kings and princes, whom he should oblige to pay tribute, 
through his hands, to the king of England ; that these kings 
and princes were also to hold possession of their respective 
territories as long as they remained faithful to the king oi 
England and paid their tribute to him ; that if they departed 
from their fealty to the king of England, Roderick was to 
judge and depose them, either by his own power, or, if that 
was not sufficient, by the aid of the Anglo-Norman authori- 
ties; but that his jurisdiction should not extend to the ter- 
ritories occupied by theEnglish settlers, which at a later period 
was called the English Pale, and comprised Meath and Leins- 
ter, Dublin with its dependent district, VVaterf ord, and the 
country thence to Dungarvan. 

The treaty between the two sovereigns, Roderick and 
Henry, clearl}'' shows that the mere recognition of the Eng- 
lish king as suzeraine was all that appeared to be claimed on 
the one side or yielded on the other. With this single excep- 
tion or qualification, the native Irish power, authority, rights, 
and liberties, were fully and formally guaranteed. What Hen- 
ry himself thought of the relations in which he stood by this 
treaty towards Ireland, and the sense in which he read its 
stipulations, is very intelligibly evidenced in the fact that he 
never styled, signed, or described himself as either king or 
lord of Ireland, in the documents reciting and referring to his 
relations with and towards that country. 

But neither Henry nor his Norman barons kept the treaty. 
Like that made with Ireland by another English king, five 
hundred years later on, at Limerick, it was 

" broken ere the ink wherewith 'twas writ was dry." 



130 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

I am inclined to credit Henry with having at one time intend- 
ed to keep it. I think there are indications that he was in a cer- 
tain sense coerced by his Norman lords into the aba ndonment, or 
at least the alteration, of his original policy, plans, and intentions 
as to Ireland, which were quite too peaceful and afforded too 
little scope for plunder to please those adventurers. In fact 
the barons revolted against the idea of not being allowed full 
scope for robbing the Irish ; and one of them, De Courcy, 
resolved to fling the king's restrictions overboard, and set off 
on a conquering or freebooting expedition on his own ac- 
count! A historian tells us that the royal commissioner 
Fitzadelm was quite unpopular with the colony. " His tastes 
were not military ; he did not afford sufficient scope for spoilia- 
tioii ; and he was openly accused of being too friendly to the 
Irish. De Courcy, one of his aides in the government, be- 
came so disgusted with his inactivity, that he set out, in open 
defiance of the viceroy's prohibition, on an expedition to the 
north. Having selected a small army of twenty-two knights 
and three hundred soldiers, all picked men, to accompany him, 
b}' rapid marches he arrived the fourth day at Downpatrick, 
the chief city of UHdia, and the clangor of his bugles ringing 
through the streets at the break of day, was the first intima- 
tion which the inhabitants received of this wholly unexpected 
incursion. In the alarm and confusion which ensued, the peo- 
ple became easy victims, and the English, after indulging 
their rage and rapacity, entrenched themselves in a corner of 
the city. Cardinal Vivian, who had come as legate from 
Pope Alexander the Third to the nations of Scotland and 
Ireland, and who had only recently arrived from the Isle of 
Man, happened to be then in Do wn, and was horrified at this act 
of aggression. He attempted to negotiate terms of peace, 
and proposed that De Courcy should withdraw his army on 
the condition of the Ulidians paying tribute to the English 
king ; but any such terms being sternly rejected by De Cour- 
cy, the Cardinal encouraged and exhorted Mac Dunlevy, the 
king of Ulidia and Dalarania, to defend his territories man- 
fullv against the invaders. Coming as this advice did from 
the Pope's legate, we may judge in what light the grant of 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 131 

Ireland to king Henry the Second was regarded by the Pope 
himself." 

It became clear that whatever policy or principles Henry 
might originally have thought of acting on in Ireland, he 
should abandon them and come into the scheme of the barons, 
which was, that he should give them free and full license for 
the plunder of the Irish, and they in return, would extend his 
realm. So we find the whole aim and spirit of the royal 
policy forthwith altered to meet the piratical views of the 
barons. 

One of Roderick's sons, Murrogh, rebelled against and en- 
deavored to depose his father (as the sons of Henry endeavor- 
ed to dethrone him a few years subsequently), and Milo 
de Cogan, by the lord deputy's orders', led a Norman force 
into Connaught to aid the parricidal revolt ! The Connacians, 
however, stood by their aged king, shrank from the rebellious 
son, and under the command of Roderick in person gave 
battle to the Normans at the Shannon. De Cogan and his 
Norman treaty- breakers and plunder-seekers were utterly 
and disastrously defeated; and Murrogh, the unnatural son, 
being captured, was tried for his offence by the assembled 
clans, and suffered the eric decreed by law for his crime. 

This was the first deliberate rent in the treaty by the 
English. The next was by Henry himself, who, in violation 
of his kingly troth, undertook to dub his son John, yet a mere 
child, either lord or king of Ireland, and by those plausible 
deceits and diplomatic arts in which he proved himself a 
master, he obtained the approbation of the Pope for his pro- 
ceeding. Quickly following upon these violations of the 
treaty of Windsor, and suddenly and completely changing 
the whole nature of the relations between the Irish and the 
Normans as previously laid down, Henry began to grant and 
assign away after the most wholesale fashion, the lands of the 
Irish, apportioning amongst his hungry followers whole 
territories yet unseen by an English eye ! Naturalists tell 
how the paw of a tiger can touch with the softness of velvet 
or clutch with the force of a vice, according as the deadly 
fangs are sheathed or put forth. The Irish princes had been 



132 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 



treated with the velvet smoothness; they were now to be torn 
by the lacerating fangs of that tiger grip to which they had 
yielded themselves up so easily. 



XXI. — DEATH-BED SCENES. 




T is a singular fact — one 

which no historian can 

avoid particularly noticing 

— that every one of the 

principal actors on the English 

j 1 (D^li^^^^^^^^ side in this eventful episode ot the 

ri ^^"l^^ll^^^^^ first Anglo-Norman invasion, end-^ 

ed life violently, or under most 
painful circumstances. 
Murrogh the traitor died, as we have already seen, of a 
mysterious disease, by which his body became putrid while 
yet he Ungered between life and death. Strongbow died un- 
der somewhat similar circumstances; an ulcer in his foot 
spread upwards, and so eat away his body that it almost fell 
to pieces. Strongbow's son was slain by the father's hand. 
The death-bed of king Henry the Second was a scene of 



THE STOEY OP IRELAND. 133 

horror. He died cursing with the most fearful maledictions 
his own sons ! In vain the bishops and ecclesiastics surround- 
ing his couch, horror-stricken, sought to prevail upon him to 
revoke these awful imprecations on his own offspring ! 
" Accursed be the day on zvhich I was born ; and accursed of 
God be the sons that I leave after me" were his last words.* 
Far different is the spectacle presented to us in the death- 
scene of the hapless Irish monarch Roderick ! Misfortunes 
in every shape had indeed overwhelmed him, and in his last 
hours sorrows were multiplied to him. "Near the junction 
of Lough Corrib with Lough Mask, on the boundary line be- 
tween Mayo and Galway, stand the ruins of the once popu- 
lous monastery and village of Cong. The first Christian kings 
of Connaught had founded the monastery, or enabled St. 
Fechin to do so by their generous donations. The father of 
Roderick had enriched its shrine by the gift of a particle of 
the true cross, reverently enshrined in a reliquary, the work- 
manship of which still excites the admiration of antiquaries. 
Here Roderick retired in the seventieth year of his age, 
and for twelve years thereafter — until the 29th day of Novem- 
ber, 1 198 — here he wept and prayed and withered away. 
Dead to the world, as the world to him, the opening of a new 
grave in the royal corner at Clonmacnoise was the last in- 
cident connected with his name which reminded Connaught 
that it had lost its once prosperous prince, and Ireland, that 
she had seen her last Ard-Righ, according to the ancient 
Milesian constitution. Powerful princes of his own and other 
houses the land was destined to know for many generations, 
before its sovereignty was merged in that of England, but 
none fully entitled to claim the high sounding but often 
fallacious title of Monarch of all Ireland." 

One other death-bed scene, described to us by the same 
historian, one more picture from the Irish side, and we shall 
take our leave of this eventful chapter of Irish history, and 
the actors who moved in it. The last hours of Roderick's 
ambassador, the illustrious archbishop of Dublin, are thus 

•"Mandit soit le jour ou jesuis n^; et mandits de Dieu soient les fils qui je laisse.' 



134 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

described : " From Rome he returned with legatine powers 
which he used with great energy during the year li8o. In 
the autumn of that year, he was entrusted with the delivery 
to Henry the Second of the son of Roderick O'Conor, as a 
pledge for the fulfilment of the treaty of Windsor, and with 
other diplomatic functions. On reaching England, he found 
the king had gone to France, and following him thither, he 
was seized with illness as he approached the monastery of Eu. 
and with a prophetic foretaste of death, he exclaimed as he 
came in sight of the towers of the convert, * Here shall I make 
my resting place.' The Abbot Osbert and the monks of the 
order of St. Victor received him tenderly and watched his 
couch for the few days he yet lingered. Anxious to fufil his 
mission, he despatched David, tutor of the son of Roderick, 
with messages to Henry, and awaited his return with 
anxiety. David brought him a satisfactory response from the 
English king, and the last anxiety only remained. In death, 
as in life, his thoughts were with his country. ' Ah, foolish 
and insensible people,' he exclaimed in his latest hours, * what 
will become of you ? Who will relieve your miseries ? Who 
will heal you?' When recommended to make his last will, he 
answered with apOstolic simplicity: * God knows out of all 
my revenues I have not a single coin to bequeath.' And thus 
on the nth of November, 1180, in the forty-eighthyearof his 
age, under the shelter of a Norman roof, surrounded by 
Norman mourners, the Gaelic statesman-saint departed out 
of this life, bequeathing one more canonized memory to 
Ireland and to Rome." 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 135 




XXII. — HOW THE ANGLO-NORMAN COLONY FARED. 

HAVE, in the foregoing pages, endeavored to narrate 
fully and minutely all the cifcumstances leading to, 
and attendant upon, the Anglo-Norman landing and 
settlement in this country, A.D. 1169-1172. It tran- 
in importance all other events in our history, hav- 
ing regard to ulterior and enduring consequences ; and a 
clear and correct understanding of that event will furnish 
a key to the confused history of the troubled period which 
immediately succeeded it. 

It is not my design to follow the formal histories of Ireland 
In relating at full length, and in consecutive detail, the events 
of the four centuries that succeeded the date of king Henry's 
landing. It was a period of such wild, confused, and chaotic 
struggle, that youthful readers would be hopelessly bewil- 
dered in the effort to keep its incidents minutely and con- 
secutively remembered. Moreover, the history of those four 
centuries fully written out, would make a goodly volume in 
itself; a volume abounding with stirring incidents and affecting 
tragedies, and with episodes of valor and heroism, adven- 
turous daring, and chivalrous patriotic devotion, not to be 
surpassed in the pages of romance. But the scope of my story 
forbids my dwelling at any great length upon the events of 
this period. Such of my readers as may desire to trace them 
in detail will find them succinctly related in the formal histories 
of Ireland. What I propose to do here, is to make my youth- 
ful readers acquainted with the general character, course, 
and progress of the struggle ; the phases, changes, or muta- 
tions through which it passed ; the aspects it presented, and 
the issues it contested, as each century rolled on, dwelling only 
upon events of comparative importance, and incidents illus- 
trating the actions and the actors of the period. 

Let us suppose a hundred years to have passed away since 



136 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

king Henry's visit to Ireland — that event which Englishmen 
who write 'Irish history affect to regard as an " easy con- 
quest" of our country. Let us see what the Normans have 
achieved by the end of one hundred years in Ireland. They 
required but one year to conquer England; and, accordingly, 
judging by all ordinary calculations and probabilities, we 
ought surely, in one hundred times that duration, to find 
Ireland as thoroughly subdued and as completely pacified 
as England had been in the twelvemonth that sufficed for its 
utter subjugation. 

The nature of the struggle waged by the Anglo-Normans 
against Ireland during this period was rather peculiar. At no 
time was it an open and avowed effort to conquer Ireland as 
England had been conquered, though, as a matter of fact, the 
military force engaged against the Irish throughout the period 
exceeded that which had sufficed the Normans to conquer 
England. King Henry, as we have already seen, presented 
himself and his designs in no such hostile guise to the Irish. 
He seems to have concluded that broken and faction-split 
disorganized and demoralized, as the Irish princes were, they 
would probably be rallied into union by the appearance of a 
nakedly hostile invasion, and he knew well that it would be 
easier to conquer a dozen Englands than to overcome this sol- 
dier race if only united against a common foe. So the crown 
of England did not, until long after this time, openly profess 
to pursue a conquest of Ireland, any more than it professed to 
pursue a conquest in India in the time of Clive. An Anglo- 
Norman colony was planted on the south-eastern corner of the 
island. This colony, which was well sustained from England, 
was to push its own fortunes, as it were, in Ireland, and to ex- 
tend itself as rapidly as it could. To it, as ample excitement, sus- 
tauiment, and recompense, was given, prospectively, the land 
to be taken from the Irish. The planting of such a colony — com- 
posed, as it was, of able, skilful, and desperate military adven- 
turers — and the endowing of it, so to speak, with such rich 
prospect of plunder, was the establishment of a perpetual and 
self-acting mechanism for the gradual reduction of Ireland. 

Agamst this colony the Irish warred in their own desultory 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 137 

way, very much as they warred against each other, neither 
better nor worse ; and in the fierce warring of the Irish princes 
with each other, the Anglo-Norman colonists sided now with 
one, now with another ; nay, very frequently in such conflicts 
Anglo-Normans fought on each side ! The colony, however, 
had precisely that which the Irish needed — asupremeauthority 
ever guiding it in the one purpose ; and it always felt strong 
in the consciousness that, at the worst, England was at its 
back, and that in its front lay, not the Irish nation, but the 
broken fragments of that once great and glorious power. 

The Irish princes, meantime, each one for himself, fought 
away as usual, either against the Norman colonists or against 
some neighboring Irish chief. Indeed, they may be described 
as fighting each other with one hand, and fighting England 
with the other ! Quite as curious is the fact, that in all their 
struggles with the latter, they seem to have been ready enough 
to admit the honorary lordship or suzerainty of the English 
king, but resolved to resist to the death the Norman encroach- 
ments beyond the cities and lands to the possession of which 
they had attained by reason of their treaties with, or successes 
under, Dermott M'Murrogh. The fight was all for the soil. 
Then, as in our own times, the battle cry was " Land or Life ! " 

But the English power had two modes of action ; and when 
one failed the other was tried. As long as the rapacious free- 
booting of the barons was working profitably, not only for 
themselves but for the king, it was all very well. But when 
that policy resulted in arousing the Irish to successful resist- 
ance, and the freebooters were being routed everywhere, or 
when they had learned to think too much to their own profit 
and too little of the king's, then his English majesty could take 
totherd^/fc" of magnanimous friend, protector, or suzeraine of the 
Irish princes, and angry punisher of the rapacious Norman 
barons. 

We have already seen that when Henry the Second visited 
Ireland, it was (pretendedly at least) in the character of a just- 
minded king, who came to chastise his own subjects, the Nor- 
man settlers. When next an English king visited these shores, 
it was professedly with a like design. In 12 lo king John arrived, 



138 THE STORY OF IKELAND. 

and during his entire stay in this country he was occupied, 
not in wars or conflicts with the Irish ; quite the contrary — 
in chastising the most powerful and presumptuous of the great 
Norman lords! What wonder that the Irish princes were 
confirmed in the old idea, impressed upon them by king Hen- 
ry's words and actions, that though in the Norman barons, 
they had to deal with savage and merciless spoliators, in the 
English king they had a friendly suzeraine ? As a matter of 
fact, the Irish princes who had fought most stoutly and vic- 
toriously against the Normans up to the date of John's arri- 
val, at once joined their armies to his, and at the head of this 
combined force the English king proceeded to overthrow 
the most piratical and powerful of the barons! SaysM'Gee: 
" The visit of king John, which lasted from the 20th of June 
to the 25th of August, was mainly directed to the reduction 
of those intractable Anglo-Irish princes whom Fitz- Henry 
and Gray had proved themselves unable to cope with. Of 
these the De Lacysof Meath were the most obnoxious. They 
not only assumed an independent state, but had sheltered de 
Braos, lord of Brecknock, one of the recusant barons of Wales, 
and refused to surrender him on the royal summons. To as- 
sert his authority and to strike terror into the nobles of other 
possessions, John crossed the channel with a prodigious fleet 
— in the Irish annals said to consist of seven hundred sail. 
He landed at Crook, reached Dublin, and prepared at once 
to subdue the Lacys. With his own army, and the coopera- 
tion of Cathal O'Conor, he drove out Walter de Lacy, Lord of 
Meath, who fled to his brother, Hugh de Lacy, since de 
Courcy's disgrace. Earl of Ulster. From Meath into Louth 
John pursued the brothers, crossing the lough at Carlingford 
with his ships, which must have coasted in his company. 
From Carlingford they retreated, and he pursued to Carrick- 
fergus, and that fortress, being unable to resist a royal fleet 
and navy, they fled into Man or Scotland, and thence escaped 
in disguise into France. With their guest de Braos, they 
wrought as gardeners in the grounds of the Abbey of Saint 
Taurin Evreux, until the abbot, having discovered by their 
manners the key to their rank, negociated successfully with 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 139 

John tor their restoration to their estates. Walter agreed to 
pay a fine of 2,500 marks for his lordship in Meath, and Hugh 
4,000 for his possessions in Ulster. Of de Braos we have no 
particulars ; his high-spirited wife and children were thought 
to have been starved to death by order of the unforgiving 
tj'rant in one of his castles. 

In the next succeeding reign (that of Henry the Third), we 
find a like impression existing and encouraged amongst the 
Irish princes ; the king of Connacht proceeding to England 
and complaining to the king of the unjust, oppressive, and 
rapacious conduct of the barons. And we find king Henry 
ordering him substantial redress, writing to his lord justice 
in Ireland, Maurice Fitzgerald, to " pluck up by the root" the 
powerful De Burgo, who lorded it over all the west. There 
is still in existence a letter written by the Connacian king to 
Henry the Third, thanking him for the many favors he had 
conferred upon him, but particularly for this one. 




liO THE STORY OF IRELAND. 




XXIII. — " THE BIER THAT CONQUERED." THE STORY OF GOD- 
FREY OF TYRCONNELL. 

HAVE remarked that the Irish chiefs may be said to 
have fought each other with one hand, while they 
fought the English with the other. Illustrating this 
state of things, I may refer to the story of Godfrey* 
prince of Tyrconnell — as glorious a character as ever 
adorned the page of history. For years the Normans had 
striven in vain to gain a foot-hold in Tyrconnell. Elsewhere — 
in Connacht, in Munster, throughout all Leinster, and in 
southern Ulster — they could betimes assert their sway, either 
by dint of arms or insidious diplomatic strategy! But never 
could they over-reach the wary and martial Cinel-Connal, 
from whom more than once the Norman armies had suffered 
overthrow. At length the lord justice, Maurice Fitzgerald, 
felt that this hitherto invulnerable fortress of native Irish 
power in the north-west had become a formidable standing 
peril to the entire English colony ; and it was accordingly re- 
solved that the whole strength of the Anglo-Norman force 
in Ireland should be put forth in one grand expedition against 
it ; and this expedition the lord justice decided that he him- 
self would lead and command in person ! At this time Tyr- 
connell was ruled by a prince who was the soul of chivalric 
bravery, wise in council, and daring in the field — Godfrey 
O* Donnell. The lord justice, while assembling his forces, 
employed the time, moreover, in skilfully diplomatizing, play- 
ing the insidious game which, in every century, most largely 
helped the Anglo-Norman interest in Ireland— setting up 
rivalries and inciting hostilities amongst the Irish princes! 
Having, as he thought, not only cut ofT Godfrey from all 
chance of alliance or support from his fellow-princes of the 
north and west, but environed him with their active hostility, 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 141 

Fitzgerald marched on Tyrconnell. His army moved with 
all the pomp and panoply of Norman pride. Lords, earls, 
knights, and squires, from every Norman castle or settlement 
in the land, had rallied at the summons of the king's represent- 
ative. Godfrey, isolated though he found himself, was 
nothing daunted by the tremendous odds which he knew 
were against him. He was conscious of his own military 
superiority to any of the Norman lords yet sent against him — 
he was in fact one of the most skilful captains of the age — and 
he relied implicitly on the unconquerable bravery of his 
clansmen. Both armies met at Credan-Kille in the north of 
Sligo. A battle which the Normans describe as fiercely and 
vehemently contested, ensued and raged for hours without 
palpable advantage to either side. In vain the mail-clad 
battalions of England rushed upon the saffron kilted Irish 
clansmen ; each time they reeled from the shock and fled in 
bloody rout ! In vain the cavalry squadrons — long the boasted 
pride of the Normans — headed by earls and knights whose 
names were rallying cries in Norman England, swept upon 
the Irish lines ! Riderless horses alone returned, 

" Their nostrils all red with the sign of despair." 

The lord justice in wild dismay saw the proudest army ever 
rallied by Norman power on Irish soil, being routed and hewn 
piecemeal before his eyes I Godfrey, on the other hand, the 
very impersonation of valor, was everv where cheering his 
men, directing the battle and dealing destruction to the 
Normans. The gleam of his battle-axe or the flash of his 
sword, was the sure precursor of death to the haughtiest earl 
or knight that dared to confront him. The lord justice— than 
whom no abler general or braver soldier served the king — 
saw that the day was lost if he could not save it by some 
desperate effort, and at the worst he had no wish to survive 
the overthrow of the splendid army he had led into the field. 
The flower of the Norman nobles had fallen under the sword 
of Godfrey, and him the Lord Maurice now sought out, dash- 
ing into the thickest of the fight. The two leaders met in 



142 THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 

single combat. Fitzgerald dealt the Tyrconnell chief a 
deadly wound ; but Godfrey, still keeping his seat, with one 
blow of his battle-axe, clove the lord justice to the earth 
and the proud baron was carried senseless off the field by his 
followers. The English fled in hopeless confusion ; and of 
them the chroniclers tell us there was made a slausfhter that 
night's darkness alone arrested. The Lord Maurice was done 
with pomp and power after the ruin of that day. He survived 
his dreadful wound for some time ; he retired into a Francis- 
can monastery which he himself had built and endowed at 
Youghal, and there taking the habit of a monk, he departed 
this life tranquilly in the bosom of religion. Godfrey, mean- 
while, mortally wounded, was unable to follow up quickly 
the great victory of Credan-kille ; but stricken as he was, and 
with life ebbing fast, he did not disband his army till he had 
demolished the only castle the English had dared to raise on 
the soil of Tyrconnell. This being done, and the last soldier 
of England chased beyond the frontier line, he gave the order 
for dispersion, and himself was borne homewards to die. 

This, however, sad to tell, was the moment seized upon by 
O'Neill, prince of Tyrone, to wrest from the Cinel-Connall 
submission to his power! Hearing that the lion-hearted 
Godfrey lay dying, and while yet the Tyrconnellian clans, 
disbanded and on their homeward roads, were suffering 
from their recent engagement with the Normans, O'Neill sent 
envoys to the dying prince demanding hostages in token of 
submission? The envoys, say all the historians, no sooner 
delivered this message than they fled for their lives ! Dying 
though Godfrey was, and broken and wounded as were his 
clansmen by their recent glorious struggle, the messengers 
of Tirowen felt but too forcibly the peril of delivering this 
insolent demand ! And characteristically was it answered by 
Godfrey ! His only reply was to order an instantaneous 
muster of all the fighting men of Tyrconnell. The army of 
Tyrowen meanwhile pressed forward rapidly to strike the 
Cinel-Connal, if possible, before their available strength, such 
as it was, could be rallied. Nevertheless, they found the 
quickly re-assembled victors of Credan-kille awaiting them. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 143 

But alas, sorrowful story ! On the morning of the battle, 
death had but too plainly set his seal upon the brow of the 
heroic Godfrey ! As the troops were being drawn up in line, 
ready to march into the field, the physicians announced that 
his last moments were at hand ; he had but a few hours to 
live ! Godfrey himself received the information with sublime 
composure. Having first received the last sacraments of the 
Church, and given minute instructions as to the order of battle, 
he directed that he should be laid upon the bier zvJnch was to have 
borne him to the grave ; and that tlius he should be carried at the 
head of Ids army on their march! His orders were obeyed, 
and then was witnessed a scene for which history has not a 
parallel ! The dying king, laid on his bier, was borne at the 
head of his troops into the field ! After the bier came the 
standard of Godfrey — on which was emblazoned a cross with 
the words. In hoc signo vinccs'^ — and next came the charger of 

* On the banner and shield of Tyrconnel were emblazoned a Cross surrounded by 
the words In hoc signo vinces. One readily inclines to the conjecture that this was 
borrowed from the Roman emperor Constantine. The words may have been ; but 
amongst the treasured traditions of the Cinel-Connal was one which there is reason 
for regarding as historically reliable, assigning to an interesting circumstance the adop- 
tion by them of the Cross as the armorial bearings of the sept. One of the earliest 
of St. Patrick's converts was Conall Crievan, brother of Ard-Ri-Laori, and ancestor 
of the Cinel-Connall. Conall was a prince famed for his courage and bravery, and 
much attached to military pursuits ; but on his conversion he desired to become a 
priest ; preferring his request to this effect to St. Patrick, when either baptizing or 
confirming him. The saint, however, commanded him to remain a soldier ; but to 
fight henceforth as became a Christian warrior ; " and under this sign serve and con- 
quer," said the saint, raising the iron-pointed end of the " Staff of Jesus," and marking 
on the shield of Conall a cross. The shield thus marked by St. Patrick's crozier was 
ever called " Sciath Bachlach," or the '• Shield of the Crozier." Mr. Aubrey de Vere 
very truly calls this the "inauguration of Irish (Christian) chivalry," and has made 
the incident the subject of the following poem: — 

ST. PATRICK AND THE KNIGHT. 

" Thou shall not be a priest," he said ; 

" Christ hath for thee a lowlier task : 
Be thou his soldier ! Wear with dread 

His cross upon thy shield and casque ! 
Put on God's armor, faithful knight ! 

Mercy with justice, love with law • 
Nor e'er, except for truth and right, 

This sword, cross hiked dare to draw." 

He spake, and with his crozier pointed 
Graved on the broad shield's brazen boss 



144 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

the dying king, caparisoned as if for battle! But Godfrey's 
last fight was fought ! Never more was that charger to bear 
him where the sword-blows fell thickest. Never more would 
his battle-axe gleam in the front of the combat. But as if his 
presence, living, dead, or dying, was still a potential assurance 
of triumph to his people, the Cinel-Connal bore down all op- 
position. Long and fiercely, but vainly, the army of Tyrowen 
contested the field. Around the bier of Godfrey his faithful 
clansmen made an adamantine rampart which no foe could 
penetrate. Wherever it was borne, the Tyrconnel phalanx, 
of which it was the heart and centre, swept all before them. 
At length when the foe was flying on all sides, they laid the 
bier upon the ground to tell the king that the day was won. 
But the face of Godfrey was marble pale, and cold and mo- 
tionless! All was over! His heroic spirit had departed 
amidst his people's shouts of victory ! 

Several poems have been written on this tragic yet glorious 
episode. That from which I take the following passages, is 
generally accounted the best: " — 

All worn and wan, and sore with wounds from Credan's bloody fray, 
In Donegal for weary months the proud OTDonnell lay; 
Around his couch in bitter grief his trusty clansmen wait, 
And silent watch, with aching hearts, his faint and feeble state. 

The chief asks one evening to be brought into the open air, 
that he may gaze once more on the landscape's familiar 
scenes : — 

" And see the stag upon the hills, the white clouds drifting by : 
And feel upon my wasted cheek God's sunshine ere I die," 

Suddenly he starts on his pallet, and exclaims: 

" A war-steed's tramp is on the heath, and onward cometh fast, 

And by the rood ! a trumpet sounds ! hark ! 't is the Red Hand's blast ! " 

And soon a kern all breathless ran, and told a stranger train 

Across the heath was spurring fast, and then in sight it came. 

(That hour baptized, confirmed, anointed, 

Stood Erin's chivalry) the Cross : 
And there was heard a whisper low — 

(St. Michael, was that whisper thine ? — 
Thou sword, keep pure thy virgin vow, 

And trenchant thou shah be as mine. 

* The name of the author is unknown. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. HI 

"Go, bring me, quick, my father's sword," the noble chieftain said; 
"My mantle o'er my shoulders fling, place helmet on my head ; 
And raise me to my feet, for ne'er shall clansmen of my foe 
Go boasting tell in far Tyrone he saw O'Donnell low." 

The envoys of O'Neill arrive in Godfrey's presence, and 
deliver their message, demanding- tribute: 

"A hundred hawks from out your woods, all trained their prey to get; 
A hundred steeds from off your hills, uncrossed by rider yet ; 
A hundred kine from off your hills, the best your land doth know ; 
A hundred hounds from out your halls, to hunt the stag and roe." 

Godfrey, however, is resolved to let his foes, be they Nor- 
man or native, know that, though dying, he is not dead yet. 
He orders a levy of all the fighting men of Tyrconnel : — 

" Go call around Tyrconnell's chief my warriors tried and true 
Send forth a friend to Donal More, a scout to Lisnahue ; 
Light baal-fires quick on Esker's towers, that all the land may know 
O'Donnell needeth help and haste to meet his haughty foe. 

" Oh, could I but my people head, or wield once more a spear, 
Saint Angus ! but we'd hunt their hosts like herds of fallow deer. 
But vain the wish, since I am now a faint and failing man ; 
Yet, ye shall bear me to the field, in the centre of my clan. 

" Right in the midst, and lest, perchance, upon the march I die, 
In my coffin ye shall place me, uncovered let me lie; 
And swear ye now, my body cold shall never rest in clay, 
Until you drive from Donegal O'Niall's host away." 

Then sad and stern, with hand on skian, that solemn oath they swore, 

And in a coffin placed their chief and on a litter bore. 

Tho' ebbing fast his life-throbs came, yet dauntless in his mood, 

He marshalled well TjTConnell's chiefs, like leader wise and good. 

« » * * * if p 

Lough Swilly's sides are thick with spears, O'Niall's host is there, 
And proud and gay their battle sheen, their banners float the air; 
And haughtily a challenge bold their trumpets bloweth free. 
When winding down the heath-clad hills, O'Donnell's band they see ! 

No answer back those warriors gave, but sternly on they stept. 
And in their centre, curtained black, a litter close is kept ; 
And all their host it guideth fair, as did in Galilee 
Proud Judah's tribes the Ark of God, when crossing Egypt's sea. 

Then rose the roar of battle loud, as clan met clan in fight; 
The axe and skian grew red with blood, a sad and woful sight ; 
Yet in the midst o'er all, unmoved, that litter black is seen, 
Like some dark rock that lifts its head o'er ocean's war serene. 



148 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

Yet once, when blenching back fierce Bryan's charge before, 
Tyrconnell wavered in its ranks, and all was nearly o'er, 
Aside those curtains wide were flung, and plainly to the view 
Each host beheld O'Donnell there, all pale and wan in hue. 

And to his tribes he stretch'd his hands— then pointed to the foe, 
When with a shout they rally round, and on Clan Hugh they go; 
And back they beat their horsemen fierce, and in a column deep. 
With O'Donnell in their foremost rank, in one fierce charge they sweep. 

Lough Swilly's banks are thick with spears! — O'Niall's host is there, 
But rent and tost like tempest clouds — Clan Donnell in the rere ! 
Lough Swilly's waves are red with blood, as madly in its tide 
O'Niall's horsemen wildly plunge, to reach the other side. 

And broken is Tyrowen's pride, and vanquished Clannaboy, 
And there is wailing thro' the land, from Bann to Aughnacloy 
The red hand's crest is bent in grief, upon its shield a stain, 
For its stoutest clans are broken, its stoutest chiefs are slain. 

And proud and high Tyrconnell shouts; but blending on the gale, 
Upon the ear ascendeth a sad and sullen wail, 
For on that field, as back they bore, from chasing of the foe, 
The spirit of O'Donnell fled ! — oh, woe for Ulster, woe ! 

Yet died he there all gloriously — a victor in the fight; 
A chieftain at his people's head, a warrior in his might ; 
They dug him there a fitting grave upon that field of pride. 
And a lofty caii n raised above, by fair Lough Swilly's side. 

In this story of Godfrey of Tyrconnell we have a perfect 
illustration of the state of affairs in Ireland at the time. 
Studying- it, no one can marvel that the English power event- 
ually prevailed ; but many may wonder that the struggle 
lasted so many centuries. What Irishman can contemplate 
without sorrow the spectacle of those brave soldiers of Tyr- 
connell and their heroic prince, after contending with, and 
defeating, the concentrated power of the Anglo-Norman set- 
tlement, called upon to hurriedly re-unite their broken and 
wounded ranks that they might fight yet another battle against 
fresh foes — those foes their own countrymen ! Onl}^ amongst 
a people given over to the madness that precedes destruction, 
could conduct like that of O'Neill be exhibited. At a moment 
when Godfrey and his battle-wounded clansmen had routed 
the common foe — at a moment when they were known to be 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 149 

weakened after such a desperate combat — at a moment when 
they should have been hailed with acclaim, and greeted with 
aid and succor by every chief and clan in Ireland — they are 
foully taken at disadvantage, and called upon to fight anew, 
by their own fellow-countrymen and neighbors of Tyrowen ! 
The conduct of O'Neill on this occasion was a fair sample 
of the prevailing practice amongst the Irish princes. Faction- 
split to the last degree, each one sought merely his own per- 
sonal advantage or ambition. Nationality and patriotism 
were sentiments no longer understood. Bravery in battle, 
dauntless courage, heroic endurance, marvellous skill, we find 
them displaying to the last ; but the higher political virtues, 
so essential to the existence of a nation — unity of purpose 
and of action against a common foe — recognition of and obe- 
dience to a central national authority — were utterly absent. 
Let us own in sorrow that a people amongst whom such 
conduct as that of O'Neill towards Godfrey of Tyrcon- 
nell was not only possible but of frequent occurrence, deserv- 
ed subjection — invited it — rendered it inevitable. Nations, 
like individuals, must expect the penalty of disregarding the 
the first essentials to existence. " Eternal vigilance is the price 
of liberty." Factionism like that of the Irish princes found 
its sure punishment in subjugation. 



150 THE STORY OF TRELAND. 




XXIV. — HOW THE IRISH NATION AWOKE FROM ITS TRANCE, 
AND FLUNG OFF ITS CHAINS. THE CAREER OF KING EDWARD 
BRUCE. 

> 

ARLY in the second century of the Norman settlement 
we find the Irish for the first time apparently realizing 
,^ their true position in relation to England. They begin 
"^ to appreciate the fact that it is England and not 
the Anglo-Norman colony they have to combat, and that 
recognition of the English power means loss of liberty, 
loss of honor, loss of property, alienation of the soil ! Had 
the Irish awakened sooner to these facts, it is just possible 
they might have exerted themselves and combined in a nation- 
al struggle against the fate thus presaged. But they awoke 
to them too late — 

The fatal chain was o'er them cast, 
And they were men no more ! 

As if to quicken within them the stings of self-reproach, 
they saw their Gaelic kinsmen of Caledonia bravely battling 
in compact national array against this same English power 
that had for a time conquered them also. When king Edward 
marched northward to measure swords with the Scottish 
"rebel" Robert Bruce, he summoned his Norman lieges and 
all other true and loyal subjects in Ireland to send him aid. 
The Anglo-Norman lords of Ireland did accordingly equip 
considerable bodies, and with them joined the king in Scotland. 
The native Irish, on the other hand, sent aid to Bruce; and 
on the field of Bannockburn old foes on Irish soil met once 
more in deadly combat on new ground — the Norman lords 
and the Irish chieftains. " Twenty-one clans, Highlanders 
and Islesmen, and many Ulstermen fought on the side of 
Bruce on the field of Bannockburn. The grant of ' Kincar- 
dine-O'Neill,' made by the victor-king to his Irish followers, 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 151 

remains a striking evidence of their fidelity to his person and 
their sacrifices in his cause. The result of that glorious day 
was, by the testimony of all historians, English as well as 
Scottish, received with enthusiasm on the Irish side of the 

channel." * 

Fired by the glorious example of their Scottish kinsmen, 
the native Irish princes for the first time took up the design 
of a really national and united effort to expel the English in- 
vaders root and branch. Utterly unused to union or combin- 
ation as they had been for hundreds of years, it is really won- 
derful how readily and successfully they carried out their de- 
sign. The northern Irish princes with few exceptions entered 
into it ; and it was agreed that as well to secure the prestige 
of Bruce's name and the alliance of Scotland, as also to avoid 
native Irish jealousies, in submitting to a national leader or 
king, Edward Bruce, the brother of king Robert, should be 
invited to land in Ireland with an auxiliary liberating army, 
and should be recognized as king. The Ulster princes, with 
Donald O'Neill at their head, sent off a memorial to the Pope 
(John the Twelfth), a document which is still extant, and is, 
as may be supposed, of singular interest and importance. In 
this memorable letter the Irish princes acquaint his Holiness 
with their national design ; and having reference to the bulls 
or letters of popes Adrian and Alexander, they proceed to 
justify their resolution of destroying the hated English power 
in their country, and point out the fraud and false pretence 
upon which those documents were obtained by king Henry 
from the pontiffs named. The sovereign pontiff appears to 
have been profoundly moved by the recital of facts in this re- 
monstrance or memorial. Not long after he addressed to the 
English king (Edward the Third) a letter forcibly reproaching 
the English sovereigns who had obtained those bulls from 
popes Adrian and Alexander, with the crimes of deceit and 
violation of their specific conditions and covenants. To the 
objects of those bulls, his Holiness says, " neither king Henry 
nor his successors paid any regard ; but, passing the bounds 
that had been prescribed for them, they had heaped upon the 

* M'Gee. 



152 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

Irish the most unheard-of miseries and persecutions, and had 
during a long period, imposed on them a yoke of slavery which 
could not be borne. 

The Irish themselves were now, however, about to make 
a brave effort to break that unbearable yoke, to terminate 
those miseries and persecutions, and to establish a national 
throne once more in the land. On the 25th May, 1315, Edward 
Bruce, the invited deliverer, landed near Glenarm in Antrim, 
with a force of six thousand men. He was instantly joined 
by Donald O'Neill, prince of Ulster, and throughout all the 
northern half of the island the most intense excitement spread. 
The native Irish flocked to Bruce's standard ; the Anglo-Nor- 
mans, in dismay, hurried from all parts to encounter this truly 
formidable danger, and succeeded in compelling, or inducing 
the Connacian prince, O' Conor, to join them. Meanwhile the 
Scoto-Irish army marched southward, defeating every attempt 
of the local English garrisons to obstruct its victorious pro- 
gress. The lord justice, coming from Dublin with all the 
forces he could bring from the south, and Richard de Burgo, 
Anglo-Norman titular earl of Ulster, hurrying from x\thlone 
with a powerful contingent raised in the west, came up with 
the national army at Ardee, too late, however, to save that 
town, which the Irish had just captured and destroyed. This 
Earl Richard is known in Anglo-Irish history as " the Red 
Earl." He was the most prominent character, and in ever}' 
sense the greatest — the ablest and most powerful and influen- 
tial — man of that century amongst the Anglo-Norman rulers 
or nobles. As a matter of fact, his influence and power over- 
topped and over-shadowed that of the lord justice ; and, singu- 
lar to relate, the king's letters and writs, coming to Ireland, 
were invariably, as a matter of form, addressed to him in the 
first instance, that is, his name came first, and that of the lord 
justice for the time being next. He was, in truth, king of the 
Anglo-Normans in Ireland. He raised armies, levied war, 
made treaties, conferred titles, and bestowed lands, without 
the least reference to the formal royal deputy — the lord jus- 
tice in Dublin — whom he looked down upon with disdain. 
Accordingly, when these two magnates met on this occasion, 
the Red Earl contemptuously desired the lord justice to get 



THE STOliY OF IRELAND. 153 

him back to his castle of Dublin as quickly as he pleased, for 
that he himself, Earl Richard, as befitted his title rank of earl 
of Ulster, would take in hands the work of clearing the pro- 
vince of the Scottish- Irish army, and would guarantee to de- 
liver Edward Bruce, living or dead, into the justice's hands 
ere many days. Notwithstanding this haughty speech, the lord 
justice and his forces remained, and the combmed army now 
confronted Bruce, outnumbering him hopelessly ; whereupon 
he commenced to retreat slowly, his object being to effect, 
either by military strategy or diplomacy, a separation of the 
enemy's forces. This object was soon accomplished. When 
the Connacianking, Felim O'Connor, joined the Red Earl, and 
marched against Bruce, in his own principality his act was 
revolted against as parricidal treason. Ruari, son of Cathal 
Roe O'Conor, head of the Clanna-Murtough, unfurled the 
national fiag, declared for the national cause, and soon struck 
for it boldly and decisively. Hurriedly despatching envoys 
to Bruce, tendering adhesion, and requesting to be commis- 
sioned or recognized as prince of Connact in place of Felim, 
who had forfeited by fighting against his country at such a 
crisis, he meanwhile swept through all the west, tearing down 
the Norm an rule and erectmg in its stead the national authority, 
declaring the penalty of high treason against all who favored 
or sided with the Norman enemy or refused to aid the national 
cause. Felim heard of these proceeding before Ruari's en- 
voys reached Bruce, and quickly saw that his only chance of 
safety — and in truth the course most in consonance with his 
secret feelings — was, himself, to make overtures to Bruce, 
which he did ; so that about the time Ruari's envoys arrived, 
Felim's offers were also before the Scoto-Irish commander. 
Valuable as were Ruari's services in the west, the greater and 
more urgent consideration was to detach Felim from the 
Norman army, which thus might be fought, but which other- 
wise could not be withstood. Accordingly, Bruce came to 
terms with Felim, and answered to Ruari that he was in no 
way to molest the possessions of Felim, who was now on the 
right side, but to take all he could from the common enemy 
the English. Felim, in pursuance of his agreement with 
Bruce, now withdrew from the English camp and faced home- 



154 THE STORY OF IKELAls^D. 

ward, whereupon Bruce and O'Neill, no longer afraid to en- 
counter the enemy, though still superior to them in numbers, 
gave battle to the lord justice. A desperate engagement 
ensued at Connoyr, on the banks of the river Bann, near 
Ballymena, The great Norman army was defeated ; the 
haughty Earl Richard was obliged to seek personal safety in 
flight ; his brother, William, with quite a number of other 
Norman knights and nobles, being taken prisoners by that 
same soldier-chief whom he had arrogantly undertaken to 
capture and present, dead or alive, within a few days, at 
Dublin Castle gate ! The shattered forces of the lord justice 
retreated southward as best they could. The Red Earl fled 
into Connact, where, for a year, he was fain to seek safety 
in comparative obscurity, shorn of all power,pomp, and pos- 
sessions. Of these, what he had not lost on the battle field at 
Connoyre, he found wrested from him by the Prince of 
Tyrconnel, who, by way of giving the Red Earl something 
to do near home, had burst down upon the Anglo-Norman 
possessions in the west, and levelled every castle that flew 
the red flag of England ! The Irish army now marched 
southward once more, capturing all the great towns and 
Norman castles on the way. At Loughsweedy, in Westmeath, 
Bruce and O' Neill went into winter quarters, and spent their 
Christmas " in the midst of the most considerable chiefs of 
Ulster, Meath, and Connact." 

Thus closed the first compaign in this, the first really nation- 
al war undertaken against the English power in Ireland. " The 
termination of his first campaign on Irish soil," says a historian, 
•' might be considered highly favorable to Bruce. More than 
half the clans had risen, and others were certain to follow 
their example ; the clergy were almost wholly with him, and 
his heroic brother had promised to lead an army to his aid 
in the ensuing spring." 

In the early spring of the succeeding year (1316) he opened 
the next campaign by a march southwards. The Anglo- 
Norman armies made several ineffectual efforts to bar his 
progress. At Kells, in King's County of the present day, 
Sir Roger Mortimer at the head of fifteen thousand men made 
the most determined stand. A great battle ensued, the Irish 



THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 155 

utterly routing this the last army of any proportions now op- 
posed to them. Soon after this decisive victory, Bruce and 
O' Neill returned northwards in proud exultation. Already 
it seemed that the liberation of Ireland was complete. Hav- 
ing arrived at Dundalk, the national army halted, and prepar- 
ations were commenced for the great ceremonial that was to 
consummate and commemorate the national deliverance. At 
a solemn council of the native princes and chiefs, Edward 
Bruce was elected king of Ireland ; Donald O'Neill, the heart 
and head of the entire movement, formally resigning by letters 
patent in favor of Bruce such rights as belonged to him as son of 
the last acknowledged native sovereign. After the election, the 
ceremonial of inauguration was carried out in the native Irish 
forms, with a pomp and splendor such as had not been wit- 
nessed since the reign of Brian the First. This imposing 
ceremony took place on the hill of Knocknemelan, within a 
mile of Dundalk ; and the formal election and inauguration 
being over, the king and the assembled princes and chiefs 
marched in procession into the town, where the solemn 
consecration took place in one of the churches. King 
Edward now established his court in the castle of Northburg, 
possessing and exercising all the prerogatives, powers, and 
privileges of royalty, holding courts of justice, and enforcing 
such regulations as were necessary for the welfare and good 
order of the country. 




156 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 



XXV.— HOW THIS BRIGHT DAY OF INDEPENDENCE WAS TURNED 
TO GLOOM. HOW THE SEASONS FOUGHT AGAINST IRELAND, 
AND FAMINE FOR ENGLAND. 

^^^'^ HE Anglo-Irish power was almost extinct. It would 



m 



probably never more have been heard of, and the 
newly-revived nationality would have lasted long, 
t^^ and prospered, had there not been behind that bro 
ken and ruined colony all the resources of a great and power- 
ful nation. The English monarch summoned to a conference 
with himself in London several of the Anglo- Irish barons, 
and it was agreed by all that nothing but a compact union 
amongst themselves, strong reinforcements from England, 
and the equipment of an army of great magnitude for a new 
campaign m Ireland, could avert the complete and final ex- 
tmciion of the English power in that country. Preparations 
were accordingly made for placing in the field such an army 
as had never before been assembled by the Anglo-Irish colony. 
King Edward of Ireland, on the other hand, was fully conscious 
that the next campaign would be the supreme trial, and both 
parties, English and Irish, prepared to put forth their utmost 
strength. True to his promise, king Robert of Scotland ar- 
rived to the aid of his brother, bringing with him a small 
contingent. The royal brothers soon opened the campaign. 
ISIarching southwards at the head of thirty-six thousand men, 
they crossed the Boyne at Slane, and soon were beneath the 
walls of Castleknock, a powerful Anglo-Norman fortress, 
barely three miles from the gate of Dublin. Castleknock was 
assaulted and taken, the governor Hugh Tyrell being made 
prisoner. The Irish and Scotch kings took up their quarters 
in the castle, and the Anglo-Normans of Dublin, gazing from 
the city walls, could see between them and the setting sun 
the royal standards of Ireland and Scotland floating proudly 
side by side! In this extremitj^ the citizens of Dublin exhib- 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 157 

ited a spirit of indomitable courage and determination. To 
their action in this emergency — designated by some as the 
desperation of wild panic, but by others, in my opinion more 
justly, intrepidity and heroic public spirit — they saved the 
chief seat of Anglo-Norman authority and power, the loss of 
which at that moment would have altered the whole fate and 
fortunes of the ensuing campaign. Led on by the mayor, 
they exhibited a frantic spirit of resistance, burning down the 
suburbs of their city, and freely devoting to demolition even 
their churches and priories outside the walls, lest these should 
afford shelter or advantage to a besieging army. The Irish 
army had no sieging materials, and could not just then pause 
for the tedious operations of reducing a walled and fortified 
city like Dublin, especially when such a spirit of vehement de- 
termination was evinced not merely by the garrison but by the 
citizens themselves. In fact, the city could not be invested 
without the cooperation of a powerful fleet to cut off supplies 
bv sea from England. The Irish army, therefore, was com- 
pelled to turn away from Dublin, and leave that formidable 
position intact in their rear. They marched southward as in 
the previous campaigns, this time reaching as far as Limerick. 
Again, as before, victory followed their banners. Their 
course was literally a succession of splendid achievements. 
The Normans never offered battle that they were not utterly 
defeated. 

The full strength of the English, however, had not yet been 
available, and a foe more deadly and more formidable than 
all the power of England was about to fall upon the Irish 
army. 

By one of those calamitous concurrences which are often to 
be noted in history, there fell upon Ireland in this year (1317) 
a famine of dreadful severity. The crops had entirely failed 
the previous autumn, and now throughout the land the dread 
consequences were spreading desolation. The brothers Bruce 
each day found it more and more difficult to provision the 
army, and soon it became apparent that hunger and privation 
were destroying and demoralizmg the national force. This 
evil in itself was bad enough, but a worse followed upon it. 
As privation and hunger loosed the bonds of military disci- 



158 THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 

pline, the soldiers spread themselves over the country seeking 
food, and soon there sprung up between the Scottish con- 
tingent and the Irish troops and inhabitants bitter ill feeling 
and contention. The Scots — who from the very outset ap- 
pear to have discriminated nought in plundering castles and 
churches when the opportunity came fairly in their way — now, 
throwing off all restraint, broke into churches and broke open 
and rifled shrines and tombs. The Irish, whose reverence for 
religion was always so intense and solemn, were horrified at 
these acts of sacrilege and desecration, and there gradually 
spread through the country a vague but all-powerful! popu- 
lar belief that the dreadful scourge of famine was a " visita- 
tion of heaven" called down upon the country by the presence 
of the irreverent Scots ! 

Meanwhile the English were mustering a tremendous force 
in the rear of the wasted Irish army. The Bruces, on learn- 
ing the fact, quickly ordered a night retreat, and pushed 
northwards by forced marches. An Anglo-Irish army of 
thirty thousand men, well appointed and provisioned, lay 
across their path ; yet such was the terror inspired by vivid 
recollection of the recent victories of the Irish and the pres- 
tige of Bruce's name, that this vast force, as the historian tells 
us, hung around the camp of the half-starved and diminished 
Scotto-lrish army, without ever once daring to attack them 
in a pitched battle ! On the ist of May, after a march full of 
unexampled suffering, the remnant of the Irish army safely 
reached Ulster. 

The famine now raged with such intensity all over Ireland, 
that it brought about a suspension of hostilites. Neither 
party could provision an army in the field. King Robert of 
Scotland, utterly disheartened, sailed homeward. His own 
country was not free from suffering, and in any event, the 
terrible privations of the past few months had filled the Scot- 
tish contingent with discontent. King Edward, however, 
nothing daunted, resolved to stand by the Irish kingdom to 
the last, and it was arranged that whenever a resumption of 
hostilities became feasible, Robert should send him another 
Scottish contingent. 

The harvest of the following year (1318) was no sooner 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 159 

g-nthered in and found to be of coniparative abundance, than 
both parties sprang- to arms. The English commander-in- 
chief John de Birmingham, was quickly across the Boyne at 
the head of twelve thousand men, intent on striking king Ed- 
ward before his hourly expected Scottish contingent could 
arrive. The Irish levies were but slowly coming in, and 
Edward at this time had barely two or three thousand men 
at hand. Nevertheless he resolved to meet the English and 
give them battle. Donald O'Neill and the other native 
princes saw the madness of this course, and vainly endeavor- 
ed to dissuade the king from it. They pointed out that the 
true strategy to be adopted under the circumstances was to 
gain time, to retire slowly on their northern base, disputmg 
each inch of ground, but risking no pitched battle until the 
national levies would have come in, and the Scottish contin- 
gent arrived, by which time, moreover, they would have 
drawn Birmingham away from his base, and would have him 
in a hostile country. There can be no second opinion about 
the merits of this scheme. It was the only one for Edward to 
pursue just then. It was identical with that which had en- 
abled him to overthrow the Red Earl three years before and 
had won the battle of Connoyre. But the king was immov- 
able. At all times headstrong, self-willed, and impetuous, he 
now seemed to have been rendered extravagantly over-con- 
fident by the singular fact (for fact it was), that never yet had 
he met the English in battle on Irish soil that he did not de- 
feat them. It is said that some of the Irish princes, fully 
persuaded of the madness of the course resolved upon, and 
incensed by the despotic obstinacy of the king, withdrew from 
the camp. " There remained with the iron-headed king," 
says the historian, " the lords Mowbray de Soulis and Stew- 
art, with three brothers of the latter, Mac Roy, Lord of the 
Isles, and Mac Donald, chief of his clan. The neighborhood 
of Dundalk, the scene of his triumphs and coronation, was 
to be the scene of the last act of Bruce's chivalrous and 
stormy career." From the same authority (M'Gee) I quote 
the following account of that scene : 

" On the 14th of October, 1318, at the Hill of Faughard, 
within a couple of miles of Dundalk, the advance guard of the 



160 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

hostile armies came into the presence of each other, and 
made ready for battle, Roland de Jorse, the foreign Arch- 
bishop of Armagh, who had not been able to take possession 
of his see, though appointed to it seven years before, accom- 
panied the Anglo-Irish, and moving through their ranks, 
gave his benediction to their banners. But the impetuosity 
of Bruce gave little time for preparation. At the head of 
the vanguard, without waiting for the whole of his company 
to come up, he charged the enemy with impetuosity. The 
action became general, and the skill of De Bermingham as a 
leader was again demonstrated. An incident common to the 
warfare of that age was, however, the immediate cause of the 
victor3^ Master John De Maupas, a burgher of Dundalk, be- 
lieving that the death of the Scottish leader would be the 
signal for the retreat of his followers, disguised as a jester or a 
fool, sought him throughout the field. One of the royal 
esquires named Gilbert Harper, wearing the surcoat of his 
master, was mistaken for him and slain ; but the true leader 
was at length found by De Maupas, and struck down with the 
blow of a leaden plummet or slung-shot. After the battle, 
when the field was searched for his body, it was found under 
that of De Maupas, who had bravely yielded up life for life. 
The Hiberno-Scottish' forces dispersed in dismay, and when 
King Robert of Scotland landed, a day or two afterwards, he 
was met by the fugitive men of Carrick, under their leader 
Thompson, who informed him of his brother's fate. He re- 
turned at once into his own country, carrying off the few Scot- 
tish survivors. The head of the impetuous Edward was sent 
to London, but the body was interred in the Churchyard of 
Faughard, where, within living momory, a tall pillar of stone 
was pointed out by every peasant in the neighborhood as 
marking the grave of King Bruce." 

Thus ended the first grand effort of Ireland as an indepen- 
dent nation to expel the Anglo-Norman power. Never was 
so great an effort so brilliantly successful, yet eventually de- 
feated by means outside and beyond human skill to avert, or 
human bravery to withstand. The seasons fought against 
Ireland in this great crisis of her fate. A dreadful scourge 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 163 

Struck down the country in the very moment of national 
triumph. The arm that was victorious in battle fell lifeless 
at the breath of this dread destroyer. To the singular and 
calamitous coincidence of a famine so terrible at such a crit- 
ical moment for Ireland, and to this alone, was the ruin of the 
national cause attributable. The Irish under the king of their 
choice had, in three heavy campaigns, shown themselves able 
to meet and overcome the utmost force that could be brought 
against them. England had put forth her best energies and 
had been defeated. Prestige was rapidly multiplying the 
forces and increasing the moral and material resources of the 
Irish ; and but for the circumstances which compelled the re- 
treat northwards from Limerick, reducing and disorganizing 
the national army, and leading in a long train of still greater 
evils, as far as human ken could see, the independent nation- 
ality of Ireland was triumphantly consolidated and her free- 
dom securely established. 

The battle of Faughard — or rather the fall of Edward under 
such circumstances — was a decisive termination of the whole 
struggle. The expected Scottish contingent arrived soon 
after ; but all was over, and it returned home. The English 
king, some years subsequently, took measures to guard against 
the recurrence of such a formidable danger as that which 
had so nearly wrested Ireland from his grasp — a Scoto-Irish 
alliance. On the 17th March, 1328, a treaty between England 
and Scotland was signed at Edinburg, by which it was stipu- 
lated that, in the event of a rebellion against Scotland in Skye, 
Man, or the IsX^rnds, or against England in Ireland, the respect- 
tive kings would not assist each other's " rebel subjects." Ire- 
land had played for a great stake, and lost the game. The 
nation that had reappeared for a moment, again disappeared, 
and once more the struggle against the English power was 
waged merely by isolated chiefs and princes, each one 
acting for himself alone. 



164 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 




XXVL— HOW THE ANGLO-IRISH LORDS LEARNED TO PREFER 
IRISH MANNERS, LAWS, AND LANGUAGE, AND WERE BE- 
COMING "MORE IRISH THAN THE IRISH THEMSELVES." 
HOW THE KING IN LONDON TOOK MEASURES TO ARREST 
THAT DREADED EVIL. 

vJ/O^^"^ ^ "^^^ danger arose to the English power. It was 
not alone fresh armies and a constant stream of sub- 
sidies that England found it necessary to be pouring 
into Ireland, to insure the retention of the Anglo-Nor- 
man Colony. Something more became requisite now. It was 
found that a constant stream of fresh colonization from Eng- 
land, a frequent change of governors, nay further, the most 
severe repressive laws, could alone keep the colony English 
in spirit, in interest, in language, laws, manners, and customs. 
The descendents of the early Anglo-Norman settlers — gentle 
and simple, lord and burgher — were becoming thoroughly 
Hibernicized. Notwithstanding: the ceaseless warfare wagged 
between the Norman lords and the Irish chiefs, it was found 
that the former were becoming absorbed into or fused with 
the native element. The middle of the fourteenth century 
found the Irish lanQfuag^e and Brehon law, native Irish man- 
ners, habits, and customs, almost universally prevalent amongst 
the Anglo-Normans in Ireland ; while marriage and " foster- 
age " — that most sacred domestic tie in Gaelic estimation — 
were becoming quite frequent between the noble families of 
each race. In fact the great lords and nobles of the Colony 
became Chieftains and their families and following, Septs. 
Like the Irish chiefs, whom they imitated in most things, 
they fought against each other or against some native chief 
or sided with either of them if choice so determined. Each 
earl or baron amongst them kept his bard and his brehon, 
like any native prince; and, in several instances, they began 
to drop their Anglo-Norman names and take Irish ones 
instead. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 165 

It needed little penetration on the part of the king and his 
council in London, to discern in this state of things a peril far 
and away more formidable than any the English power had 
yet encountered in Ireland. True the Anglo- Irish lords had 
always as yet professed allegiance to the English sovereign, 
and had, on the whole, so far helped forward the English de- 
signs. But it was easy to foresee that it would require but a 
few more years of this process of fusion with the native Irish 
race to make the Anglo-Irish element Irish in every sense. 
To avert this dreaded and now imminent evil the London Gov- 
ernment resolved to adopt the most stringent measures. A- 
mongst the first of these was a royal ordinance issued in 1341, 
declaring that whereas it had appeared to the King (Edward the 
Third) and his council that they would be better and more 
usefully served in Ireland by Englishmen whose revenues 
were derived from England than by Irish or English who 
possessed estates only in Ireland, or were married there, the 
king's justiciary should therefore, after diligent inquiries, re- 
move all such officers as were married or held estates in Ire- 
land, and replace them by fit Englishmen, having no personal 
interest whatever m Ireland. This ordinance set the Ano-lo- 
Irish colony in a flame. Edward's lord deputy, Sir John Mor- 
ris, alarmed at its effect on the proud and powerful barons, 
summoned them to a parliament to meet in Dublin to reason 
over the matter. But they would have no reasonino- with 
him. They contemptuously derided his summons, and called 
a parliament of their own, which, accordmgly, met at Kilken- 
ny in November, 1342, whereat they adopted a strong re- 
monstrance, and forwarded it to the king, complaining of the 
royal ordinance, and recriminating by alleging, that to the 
ignorance and incapacity of the English officials, sent over 
from time to time to conduct the government of the colony, 
was owing to the fact that the native Irish had repossessed 
themselves of nearly all the land that had ever hitherto been 
wrested from them by " the gallant services of themselves 
(the remonstrancers) or their ancestors." Edward was oblig- 
ed to temporize. He answered this remonstrance graciously, 
and " played " the dangerous barons. 

But the policy of the ordinance was not relinquished. It 



166 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

was to be pushed nn as Opportunity offered. Eight years sub- 
sequent to the above proceedings — in 1360 — Lionel, son of king 
Edward, was sent over as lord lieutenant. He brought with 
him a considerable army, and was to inaugurate the new sys- 
tem with great eclat. He had personal claims to assert as well 
as a state policy to carry out. By his wife, Elizabeth de 
Burgh, he succeeded to the empty titles of earl of Ulster and 
lord of Connaught, and the possessions supposed to follow 
them ; but these were just then held by their rightful Iri-sh 
owners, and one of Lionel's objects was to obtain them by force 
of arms for himself. Soon after landing he marched against 
" the Irish enemy," and confident in the strength of newly- 
landed legions, he issued a proclamation " forbidding any of 
Irish birth to come near his army." This arrogance was soon 
humbled. His vaunted English army was a failure. The 
Irish cut it to pieces ; and prince Lionel was obliged to abandon 
the campaign, and retreated to Dublin a prey to mortification 
and humiliation. His courtiers plied him with flatteries in 
order to cheer him. By a process not very intelligible, they 
augured that he conquered Clare, though O'Brien had utterly 
defeated him there, and compelled him to fly to Dublin ; and 
they manufactured for him out of this piece of adulatory inven- 
tion the title of " Clarence.^' But he only half-accepted these 
pleasant fictions, the falseness of which he knew to well. Here- 
called his arrogant and oflfensive proclamation, and besought the 
aid of the Anglo-Irish. To gain their favor he conferred addi- 
tional titles and privilegeson some of them, and knighted several 
of the most powerful commoners. After an administration of 
seven years it was deemed high time for Lionel to bring the 
new policy into greater prominence. In 1367 he convened 
a parliament at Kilkenny whereat he succeeded in having 
passed that memorable statute known ever since in history as 
" The Statute of Kilkenny " — the first formal enactment in 
that " penal code of race " which was so elaborately developed 
bv all subsequent English legislation for hundreds of years. 
The act sets out by reciting that, " Whereas, at the conquest 
of the land of Ireland, and for a long time after, the English 
of the said land used the English language, mode of riding, and 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 167 

apparel, and were governed and ruled, both they and their 
subjects, called Betaghese (villeins) according to English law, 
etc ; but now many English of the said land, forsaking the 
English language, manners, mode of riding, laws, and usages, 
live and govern themselves according to the manners, fashion, 
and language of the Irish enemies, and also have made divers 
marriages and alliances between themselves and the Irish 
enemies aforesaid ; it is therefore enacted (amongst other pro- 
visions,) that all intermarriages, fosterings, gossipred, and 
buying or selling with the enemy shall be accounted treason; 
that English names, fashions, and manners shall be resumed 
under penalty of the confiscation of the delinquent's lands ; that 
March laws and Brehon laws are illegal, and that there shall 
be no law but English law ; that the Irish shall not pasture their 
cattle on English lands ; that the English shall not entertain 
Irish rhymers, minstrels, or newsmen ; and moreover, that no 
" mere Irishman " shall be admitted to any ecclesiastical bene- 
fice or religious house situated within the English district." 

The Anglo-Irish barons must have been strangely over-awed 
or over- reached when they were brought to pass this statute; 
several of themselves being at that moment answerable to all 
its penalties ! Its immediate result however, well nigh com- 
pleted the ruin of the power it was meant to restore and 
strengthen. It roused the native Irish to a full conception of 
the English policy, and simultaneously, though without the 
least concert, they fell upon the colony on all sides, drove in 
the outposts, destroyed the castles, hunted the barons, and 
reoccupied the country very nearly up to the walls ofDublin, 
" O'Connor of Connact and O'Brien of Thomond," says Har- 
diman, " laid aside for the moment their private feuds, and 
united against the common foe. The earl of Desmond, lord 
justice, marched against them with a considerable army, but 
was defeated and slain (captured) in a sanguinary engagment, 
fought A.D 1369, in the county of Limerick. O'Farrel, the 
chieftain of Annaly, committed great slaughter in Meath. The 
O'Mores, Cavanaghs, O'Byrnes, and O'Tooles, pressed upon 
Leinster, and the O'Neills raised the red arm in the north. 
The Engflish of the Pale were seized with consternation and 



168 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

dismay, and terror and confusion reigned in their councils, 
while the natives continued to gain ground upon them in every 
direction. At this crisis an opportunity offered such as had 
never before occurred, of terminating the dominion of the 
English in Ireland ; but if the natives had ever conceived such 
a project, they were never sufficiently united to achieve it. 
The opportunity passed away, and the disunion of the Irish 
saved the colony." 

As for the obnoxious statute, it was found impossible to en- 
force it further. Cunning policy did not risk permanent de- 
feat by pressing it at such a moment. It was allowed to remain 
" a dead letter " for a while ; not dead, however, but only slum- 
bering. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 



1G9 



XXVIL— HOW THE VAIN-GLORIOUS RICHARD OF ENGLAND AND 
HIS OVERWHELMING ARMY FAILED TO " DAZZLE " OR CON- 
QUER THE PRINCE OF LEINSTER. CAREER OF THE HEROIC 
ART M'MURROGH. 




HE close of the century which 
witnessed the events I have 
been mentioning-, brought 
about another " royal visit " 
to Ireland. The weak, vain, and 
pomp-loving Richard the Second 
visited this country twice in the 
course of his ill-fated career— for 
the first time 1394. I would not 
deem either worth more than a passing- word (for both 
of them were barren of results), were it not that they inter- 
weave with the story of the chivalrous Art M'Murrogh "Kav- 
anagh," prince of Leinster, whose heroic figure stands out in 
glorious prominence on this page of Irish history. 

If the M'Murroghs of Leinster in 1170 contributed to our 



X70 THE STOtlY OF IRELAND. 

national annals one character of evil fame, they were destined 
to givt', two centuries later on, another, illustrious in all that 
ennobles or adorns the patriot, the soldier, or the statesman. 
Eva M'Murrogh, daughter of Diarmid the Traitor, who mar- 
ried Strongbow the Freebooter, claimed to be the only child 
of her father born in lawful wedlock. That there were sons 
of her father then living, was not questioned ; but she, or her 
husband on her behalf, setting up a claim of inheritance to 
Diarmid's possessions, impugned their legitimacy. However 
this may have been, the sept proceeded according to law 
and usage under the Irish constitution, to elect from the 
reigning family a successor to Diarmid, and they raised to 
the chieftaincy his son Donal. Thenceforth the name of 
M'Murrogh is heard of in Irish history only in connection 
with the bravest and boldest efiforts of patriotism. Whenever 
a blow was to be struck for Ireland, the M'Murroghs were the 
readiestin the field — the " first in front and last in rear." They 
became a formidable barrier to the English encroachments, 
and in importance were not second to any native power in 
Ireland. In 1350 the sept was ruled by Art, or Arthur the 
First, father of Our hero. " To carry on a war against him," 
we are told, " the whole English interest was assessed with a 
special tax. Louth contributed twenty pounds, Meath and 
Waterford, two shillings on every carucate (140 acres) of tilled 
land ; Kilkenny the same sum, with the addition of 6d. in the 
pound on chattels. This Art captured the strong castles of 
Kilbelle, Galbarstown, Rathville ; and although his career was 
not one of invariable success, he bequeathed to his son, also 
called Art, in 1375, an inheritance extending over a large por- 
tion — perhaps one-half — of the territory ruled by his ancestors 
before the invasion." 

From the same historian* I take the subjoined sketch of the 
early career of that son. Art the Second. "Art M'Murrogh, 
or Art Kavanagh, as he is commonly called, was born in the 
year 1357, and from the age of sixteen and upwards was dis- 
tinguished by his hospitality, knowledge, and feats of arms. 
Like the great Brian, he wasa younger son, but the fortune of 

* M 'Gee. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 171 

war removed one by one those who would otherwise have 
preceded him in the captaincy of his clan and connections. 
About the year 1375 — while he was still under age — he was 
elected successor to his father, according to the annalists, who 
record his death in 1417, * after being forty-two years in the 
government of Leinstcr.' Fortunately he attained com- 
mand at a period favorable to his genius and enterprise. His 
own and the adjoining tribes were aroused by tidings of suc- 
cess from other provinces, and the partial victories of their 
immediate predecessors, to entertain bolder schemes, and they 
only waited for a chief of distinguished ability to concentrate 
their efforts. This chief they found, where they naturally 
looked for him, among the old ruling family of the province. 
Nor were the English settlers ignorant of his promise. In the 
parliament held at Castle Dermot in 1377, they granted to him 
the customary annual tribute paid to his house. . . . Art 
M'Murrogh the younger not only extended thel^ounds of his 
inheritance and imposed tribute on the English settlers in ad- 
joining districts during the first years of his I'ule, but having 
married a noble lady of the 'Pale,' Elizabeth, heiress to the 
barony of Norragh, in Kildare, which included Naas and its 
neighborhood, he claimed her inheritance in full, though for- 
feited under ' the statute of Kilkenny,' according to English 
notions. So necessary did it seem to the deputy and council 
of the day to conciliate their formidable neighbor, that they 
addressed a special representation to king Richard, setting 
forth the facts of the case, and adding that M'Murrogh threat- 
ened, until this lady's estates were restored and the arrears of 
tribute due to him fully discharged, he should never cease 
from war, ' but would join with the Earl of Desmond against 
the Earl of Ormond, and afterwards return with a great force 
out of Munster to ravage the country'. ... By this time the 
banner of Art M'Murrogh floated over all the castles and 
raths on the slope of the Ridge of Leinster, or the steps of 
the Blackstair hills ; while the forests along the Barrow and 
the Upper Slaney, as well as in the plain of Carlow and in the 
south-western angle of VVicklow (now the barony of Shillelagh), 
served still better his purposes of defensive warfare. So en- 



172 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

tirely was the rang^e of country thus vaguely defined under 
native sway, that John Griffin, the English bishop of Leighlin 
and chancellor of the exchequer, obtained a grant in 1389 of 
the town of Gulroestown, in the county of Dublin, 'near the 
marches of O'Toole, seeing he could not live within his own 
see for the rebels.' In 1390, Peter Creagh, bishop of Limerick, 
on his way to attend an Anglo-Irish parliament, was taken 
prisoner in that region, and in consequence the usual fine 
was remitted in his favor. In 1392, James, the third earl of 
Ormondj gave M'Murrogh a severe check at Tiscoffin, near 
Shankil, where six hundred of his clansmen were left dead 
among the hills. 

" This defeat, however, was thrown into the shade by the 
capture of New Ross, on the very eve of Richard's arrival at 
Waterford. In a previous chapter we have described the 
fortifications erected around this important seaport towards 
the end of the thirteenth century. Since that period its pro- 
gress had been steadily onward. In the reign of Edward the 
Third the controversy which had long subsisted between 
the merchants of New Ross and those of Waterford, concern- 
ing the trade monopolies claimed by the latter, had been de- 
cided in favor of Ross. At this period it could muster in 
its own defence 363 cross bowmen, i, 200 long bowmen, 1,200 
pikemen, and 104 horsemen — a force which would seem to 
place it second to Dublin in point of military strength. The 
capture of so important a place by M'Murrogh was a cheer- 
ing omen to his followers. He razed the walls and towers, 
and carried off gold, silver, and hostages." 

From the first sentence in the concluding passage of the 
foregoing extract it will be gathered, that it was at this junc- 
ture the vain-glorious Richard made his first visit to Ireland. 
He had just recently been a candidate for the imperial throne 
of the Germanic empire, and had been rejected in a manner 
most wounding to his pride. So he formed the project of 
visiting Ireland with a display of pomp, power, and royal 
splendor, such as had not been seen in Europe for a long 
time, and would, he was firmly persuaded, enable him to ac- 
complish the complete subjugation of the Irish kingdom after 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 173 

the manner of that Roman general who came and saw and 
conquered. Early in October he landed at Waterford with a 
force of 30.000 bowmen and 4,000 men-at-arms ; a force in 
those days deemed ample to over-run and conquer the strong- 
est kingdom, and far exceeding many that sufficed to change 
the fate of empires previously and subsequently in Europe. 
This vast army was transported across the channel in a fleet 
in some three hundred ships or galleys. Great pains were 
taken to provide the expedition with all the appliances and 
features of impressive pageantry ; and in the king's train, as 
usual, came the chief nobles of England — his uncle, the duke 
of Glo'ster, the young earl of March (heir apparent), and of 
earls and lords a goodly attendance, besides several prelates, 
abbots, and other ecclesiastical dignitaries. But with this 
vast expedition king Richard accomplished in Ireland just as 
much as that king in the ballad, who " marched up the hill, and 
then marched down again." He rehearsed king Henry and king 
John on Irish soil. The Irish princes were invited to visit 
their " friend" the the mighty and puissant king of England. 
They did visit him, and were subjected, as of old, to the " daz- 
zling" process. They were patronizingly fondled ; made to 
understand that their magnanimous suzerain was a most 
powerful, and most grand, and most gorgeous potentate, own 
brother of the Sun and Moon. They accepted his flattering at- 
tentions ; but they did not altogether so clearly understand 
or accept a proposition he made them as to surrendering 
their lands and chieftaincies to him, and receiving, instead, 
royal pensions and English titles from his most gracious hand. 
Many of the Irish princes yielded, from one motive or another, 
to this insidious proposition. But foremost amongst those 
who could not be persuaded to see the excellence of this ar- 
rangement was the young prince of Leinster, whose fame had 
already filled the land, and whose victories had made the 
English king feel ill at ease. Art would not come to " court" 
to reason over the matter with the bland and puissant king. 
He was obdurate. He resisted all '-dazzling." He mocked 
at the royal pageants, and snapped his fingers at the brother 
of the Sun and Moon. All this was keenly mortifying to the 



174 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

vain-glorious Richard. There was nothing for it but to send 
a royal commissioner to treat with Art. He accordingly 
despatched the earl marshall (Mowbray) to meet and treat 
with the prince of Leinster. On the plain of Balligory, near 
Carlow, the conference took place, Art being accompanied by 
his uncle Malachi. The earl marshall soon found that he had 
in Art a statesman as well as a soldier to treat with. Art 
proudly refused to treat with an inferior ; If he was to treat 
at all, it should be with the king himself ! Mowbray had to 
bend to this humiliating rebuff" and tr)^ to palaver the stern 
M' Murrogh. In vain ! Art's final answer was, that " so far 
from yielding his own lands, his wife's patrimony in Kildare 

should instantly be restored to him ; or .'' Of course 

this broke up the conference. The earl marshall returned 
with the unwelcome news to the king:, who flew into a ragre ! 
What ! He, the great, the courtly, the puissant, and gorgeous 
king Richard of England, thus haughtily treated by a mere 
Irish prince! By the toe-nails of William the Conqueror, 
this astounding conduct should meet a dreadful chastisement ! 
He would wipe out this haughty prince! The defiant 
M'Murrogh should be made to feel the might of England's 
royal arm ! So, putting himself at the head of his grand army, 
king Richard set out wrathfully to annihilate Art. 

But the Lagenian chief soon taught him a bitter lesson. 
Art's superior military genius, the valor of his troops, and the 
patriotism of the population, soon caused the vastness of the 
invading English host to be a weakness, not a strength. 
Richard found his march tedious and tardy. It was impossi- 
ble to make in that strange and hostile country commissariat 
arrangements for such an enormous army. Impenetrable for- 
ests and impassable bogs were varied only by mountain defiles 
defended with true Spartan heroism by the fearless M'Mur- 
rogh clansmen. Then the weather broke into severity awful 
to endure. Fodder for the horses, food for the men, now be- 
came the sole objects of each day's labor on the part of king 
Richard's grand army ; "but," says the historian, "M'Mur- 
rogh swept off everything of the nature of food — took advan- 
tage of his knowledge of the country to burst upon the enemy 
by night, to entrap them into ambuscades, to separate the 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 175 

cavalry from the foot, and by many other stratagems to thin 
their ranks and harass the stragglers," In fine, king Richard's 
splendid army, stuck fast in the Wicklow mountains, was a 
wreck: while the vengeful and victorious Lagenians hovered 
around, daily growing more daring in their disastrous assaults. 
Richard found there was nothing for it but to supplicate x^rt, 
and obtain peace at any price. A deputation of" the English 
and Irish of Leinster" was despatched to him by the king, 
making humble apologies and inviting him to a conference 
with his majesty in Dublin, where, if he would thus honor the 
king, he should be the royal guest, and learn how highly his valor 
and wisdom were esteemed by the English sovereign. Art 
acceded, and permitted Richard to make his way in peace 
northward to Dublin, crestfallen and defeated, with the relics 
of his grand army and the tattered rags of the gilt silk banners, 
the cnmson canopies and other regal " properties " that were 
to have " dazzled" the sept of M'Murrogh. 

Art, a few months afterwards followed, according to invi- 
tation ; but he had not been long in Dublin — where Richard 
had by great exertions once more established a royal court 
with all its splendors — when he found himself in the hands of 
threacherous and faithless foes. He was seized and imprisoned 
on a charge of " conspiring" against the king. Nevertheless, 
Richard found that he dared not carry out the base plot of 
which this was meant to be the beginning. He had alreadv 
got a taste of what he might expect if he relied on fighting to 
conquer Ireland ; and, on reflection, he seems to have decided 
that the overreaching arts of diplomacy, and the seductions 
of court life were pleasanter modes of extending his nominal 
sway, than conducting campaigns like that in which he had 
already lost a splendid army and tarnished the tinsel of his 
vain prestige. So Art was eventually set at liberty, but three 
of his neighboring fellow-chieftains were retained as "hosta- 
ges" for him ; and it is even said, that before he was released, 
some form or promise of submission was extorted from him 
by the treacherous "hosts" who had so basely violated the sanc- 
tity of hospitality to which he had frankly trusted. Not long 
after, an attempt was made to entrap and murder him in one of 
the Norman border castles, the owner of which had invnted 



176 THE STORY OP IRELAND. 

him to a friendly feast. As M'Murrogh was sitting down to 
the banquet, it happened that the quick eye of his bard detected 
in the court-yard outside certain movements of troops that 
told him at once what was afoot. He knew that if he or his 
master openly and suddenly manifested their discovery of the 
danger, they were lost ; their perfidious hosts would slay 
them at the boord. Striking his harp to an old Irish 
air the minstrel commenced to sing to the music; but the 
words in the Gaelic tongue soon caught the ear of M'Murrogh. 
They warned him to be calm, circumspect, yet ready and re- 
solute, for that he was in the toils of the foe. The prince 
divined all in an instant. He maintained a calm demeanor 
until, seizing a favorable pretext for reaching the yard, he 
sprang to horse, dashed through his foes, and, sword in hand, 
hewed his way to freedom. This second instance of perfidy 
completely persuaded M'Murrogh that he was dealing with 
faithless foes, whom no bond of honor could bind, and with 
whom no truce was safe ; so, unfurling once more the Lagen- 
ian standard, he declared war a la viort against the English 
settlement. 

It was no light struggle he thus inaugurated. Alone, un- 
aided, he challenged and fought for twenty years the full 
power of England ; in many a dearly bought victory prov- 
ing himself truly worthy of his reputation as a master of mili- 
tary science. The ablest generals of England were one by 
one sent to cope with him ; but Art out matched them in strategy 
and outstripped them in valor. In the second year's cam- 
paign the strongly fortified frontier town and castle of Carlow 
fell before him; and in the next year (20th July, 1398) was 
fought the memorable battle of Kenlis. " Here," says a his- 
torian, " fell the heir presumptive to theEnglish crown, whose 
premature removal was one of the causes which contributed 
to the revolution in England a year or two later."* We can 
well credit the next succeeding observation of the historian 
just quoted, that "the tidings of this event filled the Pale 
with consternation, and thoroughly aroused the vindictive 



* M'Gee. 



THE STORY OF lEELAND. 177 

temper of Richard. He at once dispatched to Dublin his 
half-brother, the earl of Kent, to whom he made a gift of 
Carlow castle and town, to be held (if taken) by knight's ser- 
vice. He then, as much perhaps to give occupation to the 
minds of his people as to prosecute his old project of subdu- 
ing Ireland, began to make preparations for his second expe- 
dition thither." 




XXVIII.— HOW THE VAIN-GLORIOUS ENGLISH KING TRIED AN- 
OTHER CAMPAIGN AGAINST THE INVINCIBLE IRISH PRINCE, 
AND WAS UTTERLY DEFEATED AS BEFORE. 

jF this second expedition of King Richard there is ex- 
tant an account written by a Frenchman who was in 
his train. In all its main features expedition number 
two was a singular repetition of expedition number 
one ; vast preparations and levies of men and materials, ships 
and armaments, as if for the invasion and subjugation of one 
of the most powerful empires of the world ; gorgeous trap- 
pings, courtly attendants, and all the necessaries for renewed 
experiments with the royal " dazzling" policy. Landing at 
Waterford, Richard, at the head of his panoplied host, marched 
against M'Murrogh, who to a lofty and magniloquent invita- 
tion to seek the king's gracious clemency, had rudely replied, 
" that he would neither submit nor obey him in any way ; and 
that he would never cease from war and the defence of his 
country until his death." To the overawing force of the English 
king, Art had, as the French narrator informs us, just " three 
thousand hardy men, who did not appear to be much afraid 
of the English." M'Murrogh's tactics were those which 
had stood him in such good stead on the previous occa- 
sion. He removed all the cattle and corn, food and fodder of 
every kind, as well as the women, children, aged, and helpless 
of his people, into the interior, while he himself at the head, 
of his Spartan band, " few, but undismayed," took up a posi- 
tion at Idrone awaitins: the invaders. Once more Richard 



178 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

found his huge army entangled in impenetrable forests, hem- 
med in by bogs, morass, and mountain — M'Murrogh fighting 
and retiring with deadly craft to draw him deeper and deep- 
er into difficulty, " harassing him dreadfully, carrying offevery- 
thing fit for food for man or beast, surprising and slaying his 
foragers, and filling his camp nightly with alarm and blood." 
A crumb of consolation greatly regarded by the mortified 
and humiliated English king was the appearance one day in 
his camp of Art's uncle giving in submission, supplicating for 
himself " pardon and favor." This Richard only too joyfully 
granted ; and, allowing the incident to persuade him that Art 
himself might also be wavering, a royal message was sent to 
the Leinster prince assuring him of free pardon, and "castles 
and lands in abundance elsewhere," if only he would submit. 
The Frenchman records M'Murrogh's reply: " MacMor told 
the king's people that for all the gold in the world he would 
not submit himself, but would continue to war and endamage 
the king in all that he could." This ruined Richard's last hope 
of anything like a fair pretext for abandoning his enterprise. 
He now relinquished all idea of assailing M'Murrogh, and 
marched as best he could towards Dublin, his army mean- 
while suffering fearfully from famine. After some days of 
dreadful privation they reached the sea-shore at Arklow, 
where ships with provisions from Dublin awaited them. The 
soldiers rushed into the sea to reach at the food, fought for it 
ravenously, and drank all the wine they could seize. Soon 
after this timely relief, a still more welcome gleam of fortune 
fell upon the English host. A messenger arrived from Art ex- 
pressing his willingness to meet some accredited ambassador 
from the king and discuss the matters at issue between them. 
Whereupon, says the chronicler, there was great joy in the 
English camp. The earl of Glo'ster was at once despatched 
to treat with Art. The French knight was among the earl's 
escort, and witnessed the meeting, of which he has left a 
quaint description. He describes Art as a " fine large man, 
w^ondrously active. To look at him he seemed very stern and 
savage and a very able man." The horse which Art rode 
especially transfixed the Frenchman's gaze. He declares, that 
a steed more exquisitely beautiful, more marvellously fleet, he 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 179 

had never beheld. " In coming down it galloped so hard, 
that in my opinion, I never saw hare, deer, sheep, or any other 
animal, I declare to you for a certainty, run with such speed as 
-it did." This horse Art rode "without housing or saddle," yet 
sat like a king, and guided with utmost ease in the most as- 
tounding teats of horsemanship. "He and the earl," the French- 
man tells, " exchanged much discourse, but did not come to 
agreement. They took short leave and hastily parted. Each 
took his way apart, and the earl returned to king Richard." 
The announcement brought by his ambassador was a sore 
disappointment to the king. Art would only agree to " peace 
without reserve; " "otherwise he will never come to agree- 
ment." "This speech," continues the Frenchman, "was not 
agreeable to the king. It appeared to me that his face grew 
pale with anger. He swore in great wrath by St. Bernard 
that no, never would he depart from Ireland till, alive or dead, 
he had him in his power." 

Rash oath — soon broken. Little thought Richard when he 
so hotly swore against Art in such impotent anger, that he 
would have to quit Ireland, leaving Art free, unconquered, 
and defiant, while he returned to England only to find himself 
a crownless monarch, deposed and friendless, in a few brief 
days subsequently to meet a treacherous and cruel death in 
Pontefract castle! 

All this, however, though near at hand, was as yet in the 
unforeseen future; and Richard, on reaching Dublin, devoted 
himself once more to " dazzling" revels there. But while he 
feasted he forgot not his hatred of the indomitable M'Mur- 
rogh. " A hundred marks in pure gold" were publicly pro- 
claimed by the king to any one who should bring to him in 
Dublin, <t/z7r or dead, the defiant prince of Leinster ; against 
whom, moreover, the army, divided into three divisions, were 
despatched upon a new campaign. Soon the revels and 
marchings were abruptly interrupted by sinister news from 
England. A formidable rebellion had broken out there, head- 
ed by the banished Lancaster. Richard marched southward 
with all speed to take shipping at Waterford, collecting on 
the way the several divisions of his army. He embarked for 
England, but arrived too late. His campaign against Art 



180 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

M'Murrogh had cost him his crown, eventually his life; had 
changed the dynasty in England, and seated the house of 
Lancaster upon the throne. 

For eighteen years subsequently the invincible Art reigned 
over his inviolate territory ; his career to the last being a 
record of brilliant victories over every expedition sent against 
it. As we wade through the crowded annals of those years, 
his name is ever found in connection with some gallant 
achievement. Wherever else the tight is found going against 
Ireland, whatever hand falters or falls in the unbroken 
struggle, in the mountains of Wicklow there is one stout arm, 
one bold heart, one glorious intellect, ever nobly daring and 
bravely conquering in the cause of native land. Art, " whose 
activity defied the chilling effects of age, poured his cohorts 
through Sculloge Gap on the garrisons of Wexford, taking 
in rapid succession in one campaign (1406) the castles of 
Camolins, Ferns, and Enniscorthy. A few years subsequently 
his last great battle, probably the most serious engagement 
of his life, was fought by him against the whole force of the 
Pale under the walls of Dublin. The duke of Lancaster, 
son of the king and lord lieutenant of Ireland, issued orders 
for the concentration of a powerful army for an expedi- 
tion southwards against M'Murrogh's allies. But M'Mur- 
rogh and the mountaineers of Wicklow now felt themselves 
strong enough to take the initiative. They crossed the 
plain which lies to the north of Dublin, and encamped at 
Kilmainham, where Roderick, when he besieged the city, 
and Brian before the battle of Clontarf, had pitched their 
tents of old. The English and Anglo-Irish forces, under the 
eye of their prince, marched out to dislodge them, in four 
divisions. The first was led by the duke in person ; the 
second by the veteran knight, Jenicho d'Artois; the third by 
Sir Edward Ferrers, an Enghsh knight ; and the fourth by 
Sir Thomas Butler, prior of the order of St. John, afterwards 
created by Henry the Fifth, for his distinguished service, earl 
of Kilmain. With M'Murrogh were O' Byrne, O'Nolan, and 
other chiefs, besides his sons, nephews, and relatives. The 
numbers on each side could hardly fall short of ten thousand 
men, and the action may be fairly considered one of the most 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 181 

decisive of those times. The duke was carried back wounded 
into Dublin ; the slopes of Inchicore and the valley of the 
Liffey were strewn with the dying and the dead ; the river 
at that point obtained from the Leinster Irish the name of 
Athcroe, or the ford of slaughter; the widowed city was 
filled with lamentation and dismay." 

This was the last endeavor of the English power against 
Art. " While he lived no further attacks were made upon 
his kindred or country." He was not, alas! destined to enjoy 
long the peace he had thus conquered from his powerful 
foes by a forty-four years' war! On the 12th of January, 
141 7, he died at Ross in the sixtieth year of age, many of the 
chroniclers attributing his death to poison administered in a 
drink. Whether the enemies whom he had so often vanquish- 
ed in the battle-field resorted to such foul means of accom- 
plishing his removal, is, however, only a matter of suspicion, 
resting mainly on the fact, that his chief brehon, O'Doran, 
who with him had partaken of a drink given them by a 
woman on the wayside as they passed, also died on the same 
day, and was attacked with like symtoms. Leeches' skill was 
vain to save the heroic chief. His grief-stricken people fol- 
lowed him to the grave, well knowing and keenly feeling that 
in him they had lost their invincible tower of defence. He 
had been called to the chieftaincy of Leinster at the earlv age 
of sixteen years; and on the very threshold of his career had 
to draw the sword to defend the integrity of his principality. 
From that hour to the last of his battles, more than forty 
years subsequently, he proved himself one of the most consum- 
mate military tacticians of his time. Again and again he met 
and defeated the proudest armies of England, led by the ablest 
generals of the age. " He was," say the four Masters, ' a man 
distinguished for his hospitality, knowledge, and feats of 
arras; a man full of prosperity and royalty; a founder of 
churches and monasteries by his bounties and contributions.'' 
In fine, our history enumerates no braver soldier, no nobler 
character, than Art M'Murrogh " Kavanagh" prince of 
Leinster. 



182 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 




XXIX. — HOW THE CIVIL WARS IN ENGLAND LEFT THE ANGLO- 
IRISH COLONY TO RUIN, HOW THE IRISH DID NOT GRASP 
THE OPPORTUNITY OF EASY LIBERATION. 

ITHIN the hundred years next succeeding the events 
we have just traced — the period embraced between 
1420 and 1520 — England was convulsed by the great 
civil war of the White and Red Roses, the houses 
of York and Lancaster. Irish history during the same 
period being chiefly a record of the contest for mastery 
between the two principal families of the Pale — the Butlers 
and the Geraldines. During this protracted civil struggle, 
which bathed England in blood, the colony in Ireland had, 
of course, to be left very much to its own resources; and, 
as a natural consequence, its dimensions gradually con- 
tracted, or rather it ceased to have any defined boundary 
at all, and the merest exertion on the part of the Irish must 
have sufficed to sweep it away completely. Here was, in 
fine, the opportunity of opportunities for the native popu- 
lation, had they but been in a position to avail of it, or 
had they been capable of profiting by any opportunity, to 
accomplish with scarcely an eflfort the complete deliverance 
of their country. England was powerless for aggression, 
torn, distracted, wasted, paralysed, by a protracted civil war. 
The lords of the Pale were equally disunited and comparative- 
ly helpless. One-hundredth part of the exertion put forth so 
bravely, yet so vainly, by the native princes in the time of 
Donald O'Neil and Robert Bruce would have more than 
sufficed them now to sweep from the land every vestige of 
foreign rule. The chain hung so loosely that they had but 
to arise and shake it from their limbs. They literally needed 
but to will it, and they were free ! 

Yet not an effort, not a movement, not a motion, during 
all this time — while this supreme opportunity was passing 



THE STORY OP IRELAND. 183 

away for ever — was made by the native Irish to grasp the 
prize thus almost thrust into their hand — the prize of national 
freedom ! They had boldly and bravely striven for it before 
when no such opportunity invited them ; they were sub- 
sequently to strive for it yet again with valor and daring as 
great, when every advantage would be arrayed against them. 
But now, at the moment when they had but to reach out 
their hand and grasp the object of all their endeavors, they 
seemed dead to all conceptions of duty or policy. The in- 
dividual chiefs, north, south, east, and west, lived on in the 
usual way. They fought each other or the neighboring 
Anglo-Norman lord just as usual, or else they enjoyed as a 
pleasant diversification a spell of tranquillity, peace, and 
friendship. In the relations between Pale and the Irish ground 
there was, for the time, no regular government " policy" of 
any kind on either hand. Each Anglo-Norman lord, and each 
Irish chieftain, did very much as he himself pleased ; made 
peace or war with his neighbors, or took any side he listed in 
the current conflicts of the period. Some of the Irish princes 
do certainly appear to have turned this time of respite to a 
good account, if not for national interests, for other not less 
sacred interests. Many of them employed their lives during 
this century in rehabilitating religion and learning in all their 
pristine power and grandeur. Science and literature once 
more began to flourish ; and the shrines of Rome and Com- 
postello were thronged with pilgrim chiefs and princes, pay- 
ing their vows of faith, from the Western Isle. Within this 
period lived Margaret of Ofifaly, the beautiful and accomplish- 
ed queen of O'CarroU, king of Ely. She and her husband 
were munificent patrons of literature, art, and science. On 
queen Margaret's special invitation the literati of Ireland 
and Scotland, to the number of nearly three thousand, held 
a " session" for the furtherance of literary and scientific in- 
terests, at her palace, near Killeagh, in Offaly, the entire 
assemblage being the guests of the king and queen during 
their stay. " The nave of the great church of Da Sinchell 
was converted, for the occasion, into a banqueting hall, 
where Margaret herself inaugurated the proceedings by 
placing two massive chalices of gold, as offerings, on the high 



184 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

altar, and committing two orphan children to the charge of 
nurses to be fostered at her charge. Robed in cloth of gold, 
this illustrious lady, who was as distinguished for her beauty 
as for her generosity, sat in queenly state in one of the gal- 
leries of the church, surrounded by the clergy, the brehons, 
rind her private friends, shedding a lustre on the scene which 
was passmg below, while her husband, who had often en- 
countered England's greatest generals in battle, remained 
mounted on a charger outside the church to bid the guests 
welcome, a.id see that order was preserved. The invitations 
were issued, and the guests arranged, according to a list 
prepared by O'Connor's chief brehon ; and the second enter- 
tainment, which took place as Ratiiangan, was a supplemental 
one, to embrace such men of learning as had not been brought 
tosrether at the former feast." 



XXX.— HOW A NEW ELEMENT OF ANTAGONISM CAME INTO THE 
STRUGGLE. HOW THE ENGLISH KING AND NATION ADOPTED 
A NEW RELIGION, AND HOW THE IRISH HELD FAST BY THE 
OLD. 

y,'-»s^p^£ time was now at hand when, to the existing ele- 
ments of strife and hatred between the Irish and 
the English nations, there was to be added one more 
,Q fierce than all the rest; one bitterly intensifying the 
issues of battle already knit with such deadly vehemence 
between the Celt and Saxon. Christendom was being rent 
in twain by a terrible convulsion. A new religion had 
flung aloft the standard of revolt and revolution against 
the successors of St. Peter; and the Christian world was 
being divided into two hostile camps— of the old faith and 
the new. This was not the mere agitation of new theories 
of subverting tendencies, pushed and preached with vehe- 
mence to the overturning of the old ; but the crash of a 
politico-religious revolution, bursting Uke the eruption of a 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 185 

volcano, and as suddenly spreading confusion and change far 
and wide. The political policy and the personal aims and in- 
terests of kings and princes gave to the new doctrines at their 
very birth a range of dominion greater than original Chris- 
tianity itself had been able to attain in a century. Almost 
instantaneously, princes and magnates grasped at the new 
theories according as personal or state policy dictated. To 
each and all of them those theories offered one most tempting 
and invaluable advantage — supremacy, spiritual and temporal, 
unshadowed, unrestrained, unaccountable, and irresponsible 
on earth. No more of vexing conflicts with the obstinate 
Roman Pontiffs. No more of supplications to the Holy See 
*' with whispering breath and bated humbleness," if a divorce 
was needed or a new wife sighted while yet the old one was 
alive. No more of humiliating submissions to the penances vor 
conditions imposed by that antique tribunal in the Eternal 
City ; but each one a king, spiritual as well as temporal, in 
his own dominions. Who would not hail such a system ? 
There was perhaps not one amongst the kings of Europe 
who had not, at one time or another, been made to feel un- 
pleasantly the restraint put on him by the Pope, acting either 
as spiritual pontiff or in his capacity of chief arbiter in the 
disputes of the Christian family. Sometimes, though rarelv, 
this latter function— entirely of human origin and authority 
— seemed to sink into mere state policy, and like all human 
schemes had its varying characteristics of good and ill. But 
that which most frequently brought the Popes into conflict 
with the civil rulers of the world was the striving of the Holy 
See to mitigate the evils of villeinage or serfdom appertaining 
to the feudal system ; to restrain by the spiritual authority 
the lawless violence and passion of feudal lords and kings ; 
and, above all, to maintain the sanctity and inviolability of 
the marriage tie, whether in the cottage of the bondman or 
the palace of the king. To many of the European sovereigns, 
therefore, the newly propounded system — (which I am view- 
ing solely as it affected the public policy of individual princes, 
prescinding entirely from its doctrinal aspect) — held forth 
powerful attractions ; yet amongst the Teutonic principalities 
by the Rhine alone was it readily embraced at first. 



183 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

So far, identity of faith had prevailed between England and 
Ireland ; albeit English churchmen — archbishops, bishops, 
priests and monks — waged the national war in their own way 
against the Irish hierarchy, clergy, and people, as hotly as the 
most implacable of the military chiefs. With the cessation of the 
civil war in England, and the restoration of English national 
power during the reign of the seventh Henry, the state policy 
of strengthening and extending the English colony in Ire- 
land was vigorously resumed ; and the period which witnessed 
the outbreak of the religious revolution in Germany found 
the sensual and brutal Henry the Eighth engaged in a savage 
war upon the Irish nation. Henry early entered the lists 
against the new doctrines. He wrote a controversial pamph- 
let in refutation of Luther's dogmas, and was rewarded there- 
fore by an encomiastic letter from the Pope conferring on 
him the title of " Defender of the Faith." Indeed, ever since 
the the time of Adrian, the Popes had always been wondrous- 
ly friendly towards the English kings ; much too ready to 
give them " aid and comfort" in their schemes of Irish subju- 
gation, and much too little regardful of the heroic people 
that were battling so persistently in defence of their nation- 
ality. A terrible lesson was now to awaken Rome to remorse 
and sorrow. The power she had aided and sanctioned in 
those schemes was to turn from her with unblushing apostacy, 
and become the most deadly and malignant of her foes; while 
that crushed and broken nation whom she had uninquiringly 
given up to be the prey of merciless invaders, was to shame 
this ingratitude and perfidy by a fidelity and devotedness not 
to be surpassed in the history of the world. 

Henry — a creature of mere animal passions — tired of his 
lawful wife, and desired another. He applied to Rome for a 
divorce. He was, of course, refused. He pressed his appli- 
cation again in terms that but too plainly foreshadowed to 
the Supreme Pontiff what the result of a refusal might be. 
It was, no doubt, a serious contingency for the Holy See to 
contemplate— the defection to the new religion of a king and 
a nation so powerful as the English. In fact, it would give to 
the new creed a status and a power it otherwise would not 
possess. To avert this disaster to Catholicity it was merely 



THE STORY OF lEELAND. 187 

required to wrong one woman ; merely to permit a lustful 
king to have his way, and sacrifice to his brute passions his' 
helpless wife. With full consciousness, however, of all that 
the refusal implied, the Holy See refused to permit to a king 
that which could not be permitted to the humblest of his sub- 
jects — refused to allow a wife's rights to be sacrificed, even 
to save to the side of Catholicity for three centuries the greati 
and powerful English nation. "^ 

Henry had an easy way out of the difficulty. According 
to the new system, he would have no need to incur such mor- 
tifying refusals from this intractable, antiquated, and unpro- 
gressive tribunal of Rome, but could grant to himself divorces 
and dispensations ad libitum. So he threw off the Pope's 
authority, embraced the new religion, and helped himself to a 
new wife as often as he pleased ; merely cutting off the head 
of the discarded one after he had granted himself a divorce 
from her. 

In a country where feudal institutions and ideas prevailed, 
a king who could appease the lords carried the nation. In 
England, at this period, the masses of the people, though for 
some time past by the letter of the law freed from villeinage, 
were still, practically, the creatures of the lords and barons, and 
depended upon, looked up to, and followed them with the 
olden stolid docility. Henry, of course, though he might 
himself have changed as he fisted, could never have carried 
the nation over with him into the creed, had he not devised 
a means for giving the lords and barons also a material 
interest in the change. This he effected by sharing with 
them the rich plunder of the Church, Few amongst the 
English nobility were proof against the great temptations of 
kingly favor and princely estates, and the great perils of 
kingly anger and confiscations. For, in good truth, even at a 
very early stage of the business, to hesitate was to lose life as 
well as possessions, inasmuch as Henry unceremoniously 
chopped off the heads of those who wavered or refused to 
join him in the new movement. The feudal system carried 
England bodily over with the king. Once he was able to get 
to his side (by proposing liberal bribes out of the plundered 
abbey lands) a sufficient number of the nobles, the game was 



188 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

all in his hands. The people counted for nothing in such a 
system. They went with their lords, like the cattle stock on 
the estates. The English bishops, mostly scions of the noble 
houses, were not greatly behind in the corrupt and cowardly 
acceptance of the king's scheme ; but there were in the epis- 
copac}^ noble and glorious exceptions to this spectacle of base- 
ness. The body of the clergy, too, made a brave struggle for 
a time ; but the king and the nobles made light of what they 
could do. A brisk application of the axe and the block — a 
rattling code of penalties for premunire and so forth — and soon 
the troublesome priests were all either killed offer banished. 
But now, thought Henry, what of Ireland ! How is the 
revolution likely to be received by the English colony there ? 
In truth, it was quite a ticklish consideration ; and Henry ap- 
pears to have apprehended very nearly that which actually 
resulted — namely, that in proportion as the Anglo-Irish lords 
had become Hibernicized, they would resist that revolution, 
and stand by the old faith ; while those of them least imbued 
with Irish sentiment would proportionately be on his side. 
Amongst the former, and of all others most coveted now and 
feared for their vast influence and power, were the Geraldines. 
Scions of that great house had been amongst the earliest to 
drop their distinctive character as Anglo-Norman lords, and 
become Anglo-Irish chiefs — adopting the institutions, laws, 
language, manners, and customs of the native Irish. For 
years the head of the family had been kept on the side of the 
English power, simply by confiding to him its supreme con- 
trol in Ireland; but of the Irish sympathies of Clan Gerald, 
Henry had misgivings sore, and ruefully suspected now that 
it would lead the van in a powerful struggle in Ireland against 
his politico-religious revolution. In fact, at the very moment 
in which he was plunging into his revolt against the Pope, 
a rebellion, led by a Geraldine chief, was shaking to its foun- 
dations the English power in Ireland — the rebellion of " Silken 
Thomas." 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 189 



XXXI.—" THOSE GERALDINES ! THOSE GERALDINES ! " 

HE history of the Geraldine family is a perfect romance, 
and in many respects outrivals the creations of fiction. 
From the earliest period of their settlement in Ireland 
they attained to a position of almost kingly power, 
and for full five hundred years were the foremost figures in 
Anglo-Irish history. Yet with what changing fortunes! 
Now vice-kingfs rei2:ning in Dublin, their vast estates stretch- 
ingfrom Maynooth toLixnaw, their strong castles sentmelhng 
the land from sea to sea ! Anon captive victims of attainder, 
stripped of every earthly honor and possession ; to-day in the 
dungeon, to-morrow led to the scaffold ! Now a numerous 
and powerful family— a fruitful, strong, and wide-spreading 
tree. Anon hewn down to earth, or plucked up seemingly 
root and branch, beyond the possibility of further existence ; 
yet mysteriously preserved and budding forth from some single 
seedhng to new and greater power ! Often the Geraldine stock 
seemed extinct ; frequently its jealous enemies — the English 
king or his favorites — made safe and sure (as they thought) 
that the dangerous line was extirpated. Yet as frequently 
did they find it miraculously resurgent, grasping all its ancient 
power and renewing all its ancient glory. 

At a very early period the Geraldine line was very nearly 
cut off for ever, but was preserved in the person of one infant 
child, under circumstances worthy of narration. In the year 
1261 a pitched battle was fought between the justiciary, Lord 
Thomas Fitzgerald, and the MacCarthy More, at a glen a few 
miles east of Kenmare in Kerry. It was a formidable engage- 
ment, in which each side put forth all its resources of militarv 
generalship and strength of levies. The Irish commander 
completely out-generalled the Normans. At the close of a 
protracted and sanguinary battle they were routed with fear- 
ful slaughter, Lord Thomas being mortally wounded, and his 
son, besides numerous barons and knights, left dead upon the 



190 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

field. " Alas ! " continues the narrative of O'Daly (who wrote 
in the year 1655), "the whole family of the Geraldines had 
well nigh perished ; at one blow they were cut off— father 
and son; and now there remained but an infant one year old, 
to wit, the son of John Fitz-Thomas, recentl}^ slain. The nurse, 
who had heard the dismal tidings at Tralee, ran about here 
and there distraught with grief, and left the cradle of the 
young Geraldine without a watcher ; thereupon an ape (which 
was kept for amusement sake) came and raised the infant out 
of the cradle and carried him to the top of the castle. There, 
to the astonishment of those who passed by, the ape took off 
the babe's swaddling clothes, licked him all over, clothed him 
again, and brought him back to his cradle safe and sound. 
Then coming to the nurse, as it were in reproof for her neglect, 
he dealt her a blow. Ever after was that babe called Thomas 
a n Appa ; that is, ' of the Ape;' and when he grew to man's 
estate he was ennobled by many virtues. Bravely did he 
avenge his father's and grandfather's murder, and reerect the 
fortunes of his house.* He left a son, Maurice Fitz-Thomas, 
who was the first earl of Desmond." 

Of Lord Thomas, the sixth earl, is related a romantic, yet 
authentic story, known to many Irish readers. While on a 
hunting expedition in some of the lonely and picturesque glens 
in North Kerry, he was benighted on his homeward way. 
Weary and thirsting, he urged his steed forward through the 
tangled wood. At length, through the gloom he discerned 
close by an humble cottage, which proved to be the dwelling 
of one of his own retainers or clansmen, named MacCormick. 
Lord Thomas rode to the door, halted, and asked for a drink. 
His summons was attended to and his request supplied by 
Catherine, the daughter of the cottager, a young girl whose 
simple grace and exquisite beauty struck the young earl with 
astonishment — and with warmer feelings too. He dismounted 
and rested awhile in the cottage, and became quite charmed 
with the daughter of its humble host. He bade her farewell, 
resolving to seek that cottage soon again. Often subsequentl}' 

* To this incident is attributed the circumstance that the armorial ensigns of the 
Geraldine family exhibit two apes as supporters. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 191 

his horse bore him thither ; for Lord Thomas loved Catherine 
MacCormick, and loved her purely and honorably. Not per- 
haps v^^ithout certain misgivings as to the results did he re- 
solve to make her wife ; yet never did he waver in that resolve. 
In due time he led the beautiful cottage girl to the altar, and 
brought her home his wife. 

His worst fears were quickly realized. His kindred and 
clansmen all rose against him for this nicsalliance, which, ac- 
cording to their code, forfeited for him lands and title ! In 
vain he pleaded. An ambitious uncle, James, eventually 
seventh earl, led the movement against him, and, claiming for 
himself the title and estates thus " forfeited," was clamorous 
and uncompassionate. Lord Thomas at the last nobly de- 
clared that even on the penalty thus inexorably decreed 
against him, he in no wise repented him of his marriage, and 
that he would give up lands and titles rather than part his 
peasant wife. Relinquishing everything, he bade an eternal 
adieu to Ireland, and sailed with his young wife for France, 
where he died at Rouen in 1420. This romantic episode of 
authentic history furnished our national melodist with the 
subject of the following verses : 

By the Feal's wave benighted, 

No star in the skies, 
To thy door by love lighted, 

I first saw those eyes. 
Some voice whispered o'er me, 

As the threshold I cross'd, 
There was ruin before me ; 

If I lov'd, I was lost. 

Love came, and brought sorrow 

Too soon in his train ; 
Yet so sweet, that to-morrow 

'T were welcome again ! 
Though misery's full measure 

My portion should be, 
I would drain it with pleasure 

If poured out by thee ! 

You, who call it dishonor 

To bow to love's flame, 
If you 've eyes, look but on her, 

And blush while you blame. 



192 THE STOKY OF lEELAND. 

Hath the pearl less whiteness 

Because of its birth ? 
Hath the violet less brightness 

For growing near earth ? 

No: man for his glory 

To ancestry flies ; 
But woman's bright story 

Is told in her eyes. 
While the monarch but traces 

Through mortals his line, 
Beauty, born of the graces, 

Ranks next to divine ! 

In the reign of the eighth Henry, as well as for a long time 
previous thereto, the Geraldine family comprised two great 
branches, of which the earl of Desmond and the earl of Kil- 
dare were respectively the heads ; the latter being paramount. 
Early in Henry's reign Gerald earl of Kildare, or " The Great 
Earl," as he is called in the Irish annals, died after a long life, 
illustrious as a soldier, statesman, and ruler. He was succeed- 
ed by his son. Garret Oge, or Gerald the younger, who was 
soon appointed by the crown to the high office and authority 
of lord deputy as vested in his father. Gerald Oge found 
his enemies at court active and restless in plotting his over- 
throw. He had more than once to proceed to England to 
make his defence against fatal charges, but invariably suc- 
ceeded in vindicating himself with the king. With Henry, 
indeed, he was apparently rather a favorite ; while, on the 
other hand, Cardinal Wolsey viewed him with marked sus- 
picion. Kildare, though at the head of the English power in 
Ireland, was, like many of the Geraldines, nearly as much of 
an Irish chief as an English noble. Not only was he, to the 
sore uneasiness of the court at London, in friendly alliance 
with many of the native princes, but he was allied by the 
closest ties of kindred and alliance with the royal houses of 
Ulster. So proud was he of this relationship, that, upon one 
occasion, when he was being reinstated as lord deputy, to the 
expulsion of Ormond, his accusing enemy, we are told, that 
at Kildare's request '■'his kinsman, Con O'Neill, carried the 
Sword of State before him to St. Thomas's Abbey, where he 



THE STORY OF lEELAND. 193 

entertained the king's commissioners and others at a sump- 
tuous banquet." 

But soon Gerald's enemies were destined to witness the 
accomplishment of all their designs against his house. James, 
earl of Desmond, "a man of lofty and ambitious views," en- 
tered into a correspondence with Charles the Fifth, king of 
Spain, and Francis the First of France, for the purpose, some 
hold, of inducing one or other of those sovereigns to invade 
Ireland. What follows I quote textually from O'Daly's quaint 
narrative, as translated by the Rev. C. P. Meehan : — 

" Many messages passed between them, of all which Henry 
the Eighth was a long time ignorant. It is commonly thought 
that Charles the Fifth at this time meditated an invasion of 
Ireland ; and when at length the intelligence of these facts 
reached the king of England, Cardinal Wolsey (a man of im- 
moderate ambition, most inimical to the Geraldines, and then 
ruling England as it were by his nod) caused the earl to be 
summoned to London : but Desmond did not choose to place 
himself in the hands of the cardinal, and declined the invita- 
tion. Thereupon the king despatched a messenger to the 
earl of Kildare, then viceroy in Ireland, ordering him to ar- 
rest Desmond and send him to England forthwith. On re- 
ceipt of the order, Kildare collected troops and marched into 
Munster to seize Desmond ; but, after some time, whether 
through inability or reluctance to injure his kinsman, the bus- 
iness failed and Kildare returned. Then did the cardinal 
poison the mind of the king against Kildare, asseverating that 
by his connivance Desmond had escaped — (this, indeed, was 
not the fact, for Kildare, however so anxious, could not have 
arrested Desmond). Kildare was then arraigned before the 
privy council, as Henry gave willing ear to the cardinal's as- 
sertions; but before the viceroy sailed for England, he com- 
mitted the state and administration of Ireland to Thomas, his 
son and heir, and then presented himself before the council. 
The cardinal accused him of high treason to his liege sover- 
eign, and endeavored to brand him and all his family with the 
ignominious mark of disloyalty. Kildare, who was a man of 
bold spirit, and despised the base origin of Wolsey, replied in 
polished, yet vehement language; and though the cardinal 



194 THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 

and court were hostile to him, nevertheless he so well manag- 
ed the matter, that he was only committed to the tower of 
London. But the cardinal, determined to carry out his de- 
signs of vengeance, without knowledge of the king, sent pri- 
vate instructions to the constable of the tower ordering him 
to behead the earl without delay. When the constable re- 
ceived his orders, although he knew how dangerous it was to 
contravene the cardinal's mandate, commiserating the earl, 
he made him aware of his instructions. Calmly, yet firmly, 
did Kildare listen to the person who read his death-warrant ; 
and then launching into a violent invective against the cardi- 
nal, he caused the constable to proceed to the king, to learn 
if such order had emanated from him, for he suspected that it 
was the act of the cardinal unauthorized. The constable, re- 
gardless of the risk he ran, hastened to the king, and, about 
ten o'clock at night, reported to his majesty the order of the 
cardinal for destroying Kildare. Thereon the king was bit- 
terly incensed against Wolsey, whom he cursed, and forbade 
the constable to execute any order not sanctioned by his own 
sign-manual ; stating, at the same time, that he would cause 
the cardinal to repent of his usurped authority and unjust 
dislike to Kildare. The constable returned, and informed the 
earl of his message ; but Kildare was nevertheless detained a 
prisoner in the tower to the end of his days." 

" There is," says O'Daly's translator, " a chapter in Gait's 
Life of Wolsey full of errors and gross misrepresentations of 
Ireland and the Irish. It is only fair, however, to give him 
credit for the spirited sketch he has given of the dialogue be- 
tween Wolsey and Kildare. 'My lord,* said Wolsey, 'you 
will remember how the earl of Desmond, your kinsman, sent 
letters to Francis, the French king, what messages have been 
sent to you to arrest him (Desmond), and it is not yet done. . . 
but, in performing your duty in this affair, merciful God ! how 
dilatory have you been ! . . . . what ! the earl of Kildare dare 
not venture ! nay, the king of Kildare ; for you reign more 
than you govern the land.' * My lord chancellor,' replied the 
earl, ' if you proceed in this way, I will forget half my defence. 
I have no school tricks nor art of recollection ; unless you 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 195 

hear me while I remember, your second charge will hammer 
the first out of my head. As to my kingdom, I know not 
what you mean .... I would you and I, my lord, exchanged 
kingdoms for one month ; I would in that time undertake to 
gather more crumbs than twice the revenues of my poor earl- 
dom. While you sleep in your bed of down, I lie in a poor 
hovel; while you are served under a canopy, I serve under 
the cope of heaven ; while you drink wine from golden cupS 
I must be content with water from a shell ; my charger is 
trained for the field, your jennet is taught to amble.' O'Daly's 
assertion that Wolsey issued the earl's death-warrant does 
not appear to rest on any solid foundation ; and the contrary 
appears likely, when such usurpation of royalty was not ob- 
jected in the impeachment of the cardinal." 




196 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 




XXXII. — THE REBELLION OF SILKEN THOMAS. 

HEN Kildare was summoned to London — as it proved 
to be for the last time — he was called upon to nominate 
some one who should act for him in his absence, and 
for whom he himself would be responsible. Unfortu- 
nately he nominated his own son Thomas,* a hot, impet- 
uous, brave, daring, and chivalrous youth, scarce one-and- 
twenty years of age. For some time the earl lay in London 
tower, his fate as yet uncertain ; the enemies of his house mean- 
while striving steadily to insure his ruin. 

It was at this juncture that the events detailed in bygone 
pages — Henry's quarrel with the Pope, and the consequent 
politico-religious revolution in England — flung all the English 
realm into consternation and dismay. Amidst the tidings of 
startling changes and bloody executions in London brought 
by each mail to Ireland, came many disquieting rumors of the 
fate of the Geraldine earl. The effect of these stories on the 
young Lord Thomas seems to have suggested to the anti-GeraU 
dine faction a foul plot to accomplish his ruin. Forged letters 
were circulated giving out with much circumstantiality how 
the earl his father had been beheaded in the tower of London, 
notwithstanding the king's promise to the contrary. The 
effect of this news on the Geraldine party, but most of all on 
the young Lord Thomas, may be imagined. Stunned for an 
instant by this cruel blow, his resolution was taken in a burst 
of passionate grief and anger. Vengence ! vengence on the 
trebly perjured and blood-guilty king, whose crimes of lust, 
murder, and sacrilege called aloud for punishment, and for- 
teitedfor him allegiance, throne, and life! The youthful dep- 



* Known in history as "Silken Thomas". He was so called, we are told, from the 
silken banners carried by his standard-bearers— others say, because of the richness of 
his personal attire. 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 197 

uty hastily assembling his guards and retainers, and surround- 
ed by a crowd of his grief-stricken and vengeful kinsmen, 
marched to Mary's Abbey, where the privy council was al- 
ready sitting, waiting for him to preside over its deliberations. 
The scene at the council chamber is picturesquely sketched by 
Mr. Ferguson, in his Hibernian Nights' Ejitcrtainment!^ 

" Presently the crowd collected round the gates began to 
break up and line the causeways at either side, and a gallant 
cavalcade was seen through the open arch advancing from 
Thomas' Court towards the drawbridge. ' Way for the lord 
deputy,' cried two truncheon bearers, dashing through the 
gate, and a shout arose on all sides that Lord Thomas was 
coming. Trumpeters and pursuivants at arms rode first, then 
came the mace-bearer with his symbol of office, and after him 
the sword of state, in a rich scabbard of velvet, carried by its 
proper officer. Lord Thomas himself, in his robes of state, 
and surrounded by a dazzling array of nobles and gentlemen, 
spurred after. The arched gateway was choked for a moment 
with tossing plumes and banners, flashing arms and gleaming 
faces, as the magnificent troop burst in like a flood of fire 
upon the dark and narrow precincts of the city. But behind 
the splendid cortege which headed their march, came a dense 
column of mailed men-at-arms, that continued to defile through 
the close pass long after the gay mantles and waving pennants 
of their leaders were indistinct in the distance. 

"The gate of Mary's Abbey soon received the leaders of 
the revolt ; and ere the last of tlieir followers had ceased to 
pour into the echoing court-yard, Lord Thomas and his friends 
were at the door of the council-chamber. The assembled 
lords rose at his entrance, and way was made for him to the 
chair of state. 

" ' Keep your seats, my lords,' said he, stopping midway 
between the entrance and council table, while his friends 
gathered in a body at his back. ' I have not come to preside 

• The book here alluded to, it may be right to remind young readers, does not 
purport to be more than a fanciful story founded on facts; but the author so closely 
adheres to the outlines of authentic history, that we may credit his sketches and 
descriptions as well justified approximations to the literal truth. 



198 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

over this council, my lords ; I come to tell you of a bloody 
tragedy that has been enacted in London, and to give 
you to know what steps I have- thought fit to take in conse- 
quence.' 

"' What tragedy, my lord?' said Alan, the archbishop of 
Dublin ; 'your lordship's looks and words alarm me : what 
means this multitude of men now in the house of God? My 
lord, my lord, I fear this step is rashly taken ; this looks like 
something, my lord, that I would be loth to name in the pre- 
sence of loyal men.' 

" ' My lord archbishop,' replied Thomas, 'when you pre- 
tend an ignorance of my noble father's murder' 

"' Murder !' cried the lord chancellor, Cromer, starling 
from his seat, and all at the council table uttered exclamations 
of astonishment in horror, save only Alan and the lord high 
treasurer. 

" • Yes, my lord,' the young Garaldine continued, with 
a stern voice, still addressing the archbishop, 'when you pre- 
tend ignorance of that foul and cruel murder, which was done 
by the instigation and traitorous procunng of yourself and 
others, your accomplices, and yet taunt me with the step which 
I have taken, rashly, as it may be, but not, I trust, unworthily 
of my noble father's son, in consequence, you betray at once 
your teachery and your hypocrisy.' By this time the tumult 
among the soldiery without who had not till now heard of the 
death of the earl, was as if a thousand men had been storm- 
ing the abbey. They were all native Irish, and to a man 
devoted to Kildare. Curses, lamentations, and cries of rage 
and vengeance sounded from every quarter of the court-yard ; 
and some who rushed into the council-hall with drawn swords, 
to be revenged on the authors of their calamity, were with dif- 
ficulty restrained by the knights and gentlemen around the 
door from rushing on the archbishop, and slaying him as they 
heard him denounced by their chief, on the spot. When the 
clamor was somewhat abated, Alan, who had stood up to 
speak at its commencement, addressed the chancellor. 

" ' My lord, this unhappy young man says he knows not 
what. If his noble father, which God forbid, should have 
come under his majesty's displeasure — if he should, indeed. 



THE STORY. OF IRELAND. 199 

have suffered — although I know not that he hath — the penalty 
of his numerous treasons' 

"' Bold priest, thou liest !' cried Sir Oliver Fitzgerald; 
my murdered brother was a truer servant of the crown than 
ever stood in thy satin shoes !' 

" Alan and the lord chancellor Cromer, also an archbishop 
and primate of Armagh, rose together ; the one complaining 
loudly of the wrong and insult done his order ; the other 
beseeching that all present would remember they were Chris- 
tians and subjects of the crown of England ; but, in the midst of 
this confusion, Lord Thomas, taking the sword of state out of 
the hands of its bearer, advanced up the hall to the council-table 
with a lofty determination in his bearing that at once arrested 
all eyes. It was plain he was about to announce his final 
purpose, and all within the hall awaited what he would say 
in sullen silence. His friends and followers now formed a 
dense semicircle at the foot of the hall ; the lords of the council 
had involuntarily drawn round the throne and lord chan- 
cellor's chair ; Thomas stood alone on the the floor opposite 
the table, with the sword in his hands. Anxiety and pity were 
marked on the venerable features of Cromer as he bent for- 
ward to hear what he would say ; but Alan and the treasurer 
LordJames Butler, exchanged looks of malignant satisfaction. 

^' ' My lord,' said Thomas, 'I come to tell you that my father 
has been basely put to death, for I know not what alleged 
treason, and that we have taken up arms to avenge his mur- 
der. Yet, although we be thus driven by the tyranny and 
cruelty of the king into open hostility, we would not have it said 
hereafter that we have conspired like villains and churls, but 
boldly declared our purpose as becomes warriors and gentle- 
men. This sword of state, my lord, is yours, not mine. I 
received it with an oath, that I would use it for your benefit ; 
I should stain my honor if I turned it to your hurt. My 
lords, I have now need of my own weapon, which I can 
trust; but as for the common sword, it has flattered me not— 
a painted scabbard, while its edge was yet red in the best 
blood of my house— aye and is even now whetted anew for fur- 
ther destruction of the Geraldines. Therefore, my lords, 
■save yourselves from us as from open enemies. I am no 



200 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

longer Henry Tudor's deputy — I am his foe. I have more 
mind to conquer than to govern — to meet him in the field 
than to serve him in office. And now, my lords, if all the 
hearts in England and Ireland, that have cause thereto, do 
but join in this quarrel, as I look that they will, then 
shall the world shortly be made sensible of the tyranny, 
cruelty, falsehood, and heresy, for which the age to come 
may well count this base king among the ancient traitors ot 
most abominable and hateful memory. 

" ' Croom aboo ! ' cried Neale Roe O' Kennedy, Lord Thom- 
as's bard, who had pressed into the body of the hall at the head 
of the Irish soldiery. He was conspicuous over all by his height 
and the splendor of his native costume. His legs and arms 
were bare; the sleeves of his yellow cothone, parting above 
the elbow, fell in voluminous folds almost to the ground, whilst 
its skirts, girded at the loins, covered him to the knee. Over 
this he wore a short jacket of crimson, the sleeves just cover- 
ing the shoulders, richly wrought and embroidered, and drawn 
round the waist by a broad belt, set with precious stones and 
fastened with a massive golden buckle. His laced and fringed 
mantle was thrown back, but kept from falling by a silver 
brooch, as broad as a man's palm, which glittered on his breast. 
He stretched out his hand, the gold bracelets rattling as they 
slid back on the thickness of his arm, and exclaimed in Irish:- 

" ' Who is the young lion of the plains of Liffey, that af- 
frights the men of counsel, and the ruler of the Saxon, with his 
noble voice ? 

" ' Who is the quickened ember of Kildare,that would con- 
sume the enemies of his people, and the false churls of the cruel 
race of clan-London ? 

" ' It is the son of Gerald — ^the top branch of the oak of 
Offaly ! 

'" It is Thomas of the silken mantle— Ard-Righ Eireann ! ' 
" ' Righ Tomas go bragh !' shouted the soldiery ; and many 
of the young lord's Anglo-Irish friends responded—' Long live 
King Thomas ! ' but the chancellor, archbishop Cromer, who 
had listened to his insane avowal with undisguised distress 
and who had already been seen to wring his hand, and even to 



i 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 203 

shed tears as the misguided nobleman and his friends thus 
madly invoked their own destruction, came down from his 
seat, and earnestly grasping the young lord by the hand, ad- 
dressed him : 

" ' Good my lord,' he cried, while his venerable figure and 
known attachment to the house of Kildare, attested as it was 
by such visible evidences of concern, commanded for a time 
the attention of all present. ' Good my lord, suffer me to use 
the privilege of an old man's speech with you, before you 
finally give up this ensign of yo:ir authority and pledge of 
your allegiance.' 

The archbishop reasoned and pleaded at much length and 
with deep emotion ; but he urged and prayed in vain. 

" ' My Lord Chancellor,' replied Thomas, ' I came not here 
to take advice, but to give you to understand what I purpose 
to do. As loyalty would have me know my prince, so duty 
compels me to reverence my father. I thank you heartily for 
your counsel ; but it is now too late. As to my fortune,! will 
take it as God sends it, and rather choose to die with vak)r and 
libertv, than live under King Henry in bondage and villainy. 
Therefore, my lord, I thank you again for the concern you 
take in my welfare, and since you will not receive this sword 
out of my hand, I can but cast it from vie, even as here I cast ojf 
and renounce all ditty and allegiance to your master.' 

" So saying,he flung the sword of state upon the council 
table. The blade started a hand's breadth out of its sheath, from 
the violence with which it was dashed out of his hands. He 
then, in the midst of a tumult of acclamation from his followers 
and cries of horror and pity from the lords and prelates 
around, tore off his robes of office and cast them at his feet. 
Stripped thus of his ensigns of dignity, Lord Thomas Fitzger- 
ald stood up, amid the wreck of his fair fortune, an arm- 
ed and avowed rebel,equipped in complete mail, before the 
representatives of England and Ireland. The cheering from 
his adherents was loud and enthusiastic, and those without re- 
plied with cries of fierce exultation." 

The gallant but hapless Geraldine was now fully launched 
on his wild and desperate enterprise. There is no doubt that, 
had it partaken less of a hasty burst of passionate impetuosity, 



204 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

had it been more deliberately planned and organized, the 
revolt of Silken Thomas might have wrested the Anglo-Irish 
colony from Henry's authority. As it was, it shook the 
Anglo-Irish power to its base, and at one time seemed irre- 
sistible in its progress to success. But, however the ties of 
blood, kindred, and clanship might draw men to the side of 
Lord Thomas ; most persons outside the Geraldine party soon 
saw the fate that surely awaited such a desperate venture, 
and saw too that it had all been the result of a subtle plot of 
the Ormond faction to ruin their powerful rivals. Moreover, 
in due time the truth leaked out that the old earl had not 
been beheaded at all, but was alive a prisoner in London. 
Lord Thomas now saw the gulf of ruin into which he had 
been precipitated, and knew now that his acts would only seal 
the doom or else break the heart of that father, the news of 
whose murder had driven him into this desperate course. 
But it was all too late to turn back. He would see the hope- 
less struggle through to the bitter end. 

One of his first acts was to besiege Dublin city while an- 
other wing of his army devastated the possessions and reduced 
the castles of Ormond. Alan, the Archbishop of Dublin, a 
prominent enemy of the Geraldines, ffed from the city by ship. 
The vessel, however, was driven ashore on Clontarf, and the 
archbishop sought refuge in the village of Artane. News of 
this fact was quickly carried into the Geraldine camp at 
Dublin ; and before day's-dawn Lord Thomas and his un- 
cles, John and Oliver, with an armed party, reached Artane, 
and dragged the archbishop from his bed. The unhappy 
prelate pleaded hard for his life ; but the elder Geraldines, 
who were men of savage passion, barbarously murdered him 
as he knelt at their feet. This foul deed ruined any prospect 
of success whichtheir cause might have had. It excited uni- 
versal horror, and drew down upon its perpetrators, and all 
who should aid or shelter them, the terrible sentence of ex- 
communication. This sentence was exhibited to the hapless 
earl of Kildare in his dungeon in London tower, and it is 
said, so affected him that he never rallied more. He sank 
under the great load of his afflictions, and died of a broken 
heart. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 205 

Meanwhile, I^ord Thomas was pushing the rebellion with 
all his energies, and lor a time with wondrous success. He 
despatched ambassadors to the emperor Charles the Fifth, and 
to the Pope, demanding aid in this war against Henry as the foe 
of God and man. But it is clear that neither the Pope nor 
the emperor augured well of Silken Thomas's ill-devised en- 
deavors. No succors reached him. His fortunes eventually 
began to pale. Powerful levies were brought against him ; 
and, finally, he sought a parley with the English commander- 
in-chief, Lord Leonard Gray, who granted him terms of life 
for himself and uncles. Henry was wroth that any terms 
should have been promised to such daring foes : but as terms 
had been pledged, there was nothing for it, according to 
Henry's code of morality, but to break the promise. Accord- 
ingly, the five uncles of Silken Thomas, and the unfortunate 
young nobleman himself, were treacherously seized — the un- 
cles at a banquet to which they were invited, and which 
was, indeed, given in their honor, by the lord deputy Gray 
— and brought to London, where, in violation of plighted 
troth, they were all six beheaded at Tyburn, 3d January, 

1537- 

This terrible blow was designed to cut off the Geraldine family 
for ever ; and to all appearance it seemed, and Henry fondly be- 
lieved, that this wholesale execution had accomplished that de- 
sign, and left neither root nor seed behind. Yet once again 
that mysterious protection, which had so often preserved the 
Geraldine line in like terrible times, saved it from the decreed 
destruction. " The imprisoned earl (Lord Thomas's father) 
having died in the tower on the 12th December, 1534, the 
sole survivor of this historic house was now a child of twelve 
years of age, whose life was sought with an avidity equal to 
Herod's, but who was protected with a fidelity which de- 
feated every attempt to capture him. Alternately the guest 
of his aunts, married to the chiefs of Offaly and Donegal, the 
sympathy everywhere felt for him led to a confederacy between 
the northern and southern chiefs, which had long been want- 
ing. A loose league was formed, including the O'Neils of 
both branches, O'Donnell, O'Brien, the earl of Desmond, and 
the chiefs of Moylurg and Breffiii. The lad, the object of so 



206 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

much natural and chivalrous affection, was harbored for a 
time in Munster, thence transported through Connaught into 
Donegal, and finally, after four years, in which he engaged 
more of the minds of statesmen than any other individual 
under the rank of royalty, was safely landed in France." 

The Geraldme line was preserved once more ! From this 
child Gerald it was to branch out as of yore, in stately 
strength and princely power. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 



207 



.> 



XXXIII. — HOW THE " REFORMATION," WAS ACCOMPLISHED IN 
ENGLAND, AND HOW IT WAS RESISTED IN IRELAND. 




HAVE SO far called the 
event, usually termed the 
Reformation, a politico- 
religious revolution, and 
treated of it only as such. With 
phases of religious belief or the 
propagandism of new religious 
doctrines, unless in so far as they 
affected political events or effected 
marked national changes, I do not 
purpose dealing in this Story. Asa matter of fact, however, the 
Reformation was during the reign of Henry much less of a re- 
ligious than a political revolution. The only points Henry 
was particular about were the matters of supremacy and church 
property. For a long period the idea of adopting the new 
form of faith in all its doctrinal sequence seemed quite foreign 
to his mind. The doctrine, firstl}^ that he, Henry, was su- 
preme king, spiritual as well as temporal, within his own 



208 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

realms ; the doctrine, secondly, that he could, in virtue of 
such spiritual supremacy, give full rein to his beastly lusts, 
and call concubinage marriage ; and lastly, that whatever 
property the Church possessed, bequeathed for pious uses, he 
might rob and keep for himself, or divide as bribes between 
his abetting nobles, legislators, and statesmen — these were the 
" reforms," so-called, upon which the king set most value. 
Other matters he allowed for a time to have their way ; at 
least it was so wherever difficulty was anticipated in pulling 
down the old and setting up new forms of worship. Thus 
we find the king at the same time sending a " reforming" 
archbishop to Dublin while sanctioning prelates of the old 
faith in other dioceses, barely on condition of taking the oath 
of allegiance to him. Doctrine or theology had scarcely any 
concern for him or his statesmen, and it is clear and plain to 
any student of history, that if the Catholic Church would only 
sanction to him his polygamy, and to them the rich plunder 
they had clutched, they would never have gone further, and 
would still be wondrous zealous " defenders of the faith." 
But the Catholic Church, which could have avoided the 
whole disaster at the outset by merely suffering one lawful 
wife to be unlawfully put away, was not going to compromise 
with him or with them, an iota of sacred truth or public mo- 
rality, much less to sacrifice both wholesale after this fashion. 
So, in time, the king and his party saw that having gone so 
far, they must needs go the whole way. Like the panther 
that has tasted blood, their thirst for plunder was but whetted 
by their taste of Church spoil. They should go farther or 
they might lose all. They knew right well that of these 
spoils they never could rest sure as long as the owner, the 
Catholic Church, was allowed to live ; so to kill the Church 
outright became to them as much of a necessity as the sure 
"dispatching" of a half-murdered victim is to a burglar or an 
assassin. Had it not been for this question of Church prop- 
erty — had there been no plunder to divide — in all human 
probability there would have been no " reformation" consum- 
mated in these countries. But by the spoils of the sanctuary 
Henry was able to bribe the nobles to his side, and to give them 
such an interest in the utter abolition of Catholicity and the 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 209 

perpetuation of the new system, that no king or queen com- 
ing after him would be able permanently to restore the old 
order of things. 

Here the reflection at once confronts us — what a mean, 
sordid, wordly-minded kennel these same " nobles" must have 
been ! Aye, mean and soulless indeed ! If there was any pre- 

Itence of religious convictions having anything to say in the 
business, no such reflection would arise ; no such language 
would be seemly. But few or none of the parties cared to 
get up even a semblance of interest in the doctrinal aspect of 
the passing revolution. One object, and one alone, seemed 
fixed before their gaze — to get as much as possible of " what 
was going ;" to secure some of the loot, and to keep it. Given 
this one consideration, all things else might remain or be 
changed a thousand times over for all they cared. If any one 
question the correctness of this estimate of the conduct of the 
English and Anglo-Irish lords of the period before us, I need 
only point to the page of authentic history. They were a 
debased and cowardly pack. As long as Henry fed them 
with bribes from the abbey lands, they made and unmade 
laws " to order" for him. He asked them to declare his mar- 
riage with Catherine of Arragon invalid — they did it ; his 
marriage with Anna Boleyn lawful — they did it ; this same 
marriage 7^«-lawful and its fruits illegitimate — they did it ; 
his marriage with Jane Seymour lawful — they did it. In fine, 
they said and unsaid, legitimatized and illegitimatized, just as 
he desired. Nor was this all. In the reign of his child Ed- 
ward, they enacted every law deemed necessary for the more 
complete overthrow of the ancient faith and the setting up of 

.the new. But no sooner had Mary come to the throne, than 
these same lords, legislators, and statesmen instantaneously 
wheeled around, beat their breasts, became wondrously pious 
Catholics, whined out repentantly that they had been frightful 
criminals ; and, like the facile creatures that they were, at the 
request of Mary, or to please her, undid in a rush all they 
had been doingduring the two preceding reigns — but all on one 
condition, most significant and most necessary to mark, viz.: 
that tliey should not be called upon to give back the stolen property / 
Again a change on the throne, and again they change ! Elizn- 



210 THE STOKY OF IKELAND. 

beth comes to undo all that Mary had restored, and lo ! the 
venal lords and legislators in an instant wheel around once 
more ; they decree false and illegitimate all they had just de- 
clared true and lawful ; they swallow their own words, they 
say and unsay, they repeal and reenact, do and undo, as the 
whim of the queen, or the necessity of conserving their sacri- 
legious robberies dictates ! 

Yes ; the history of the world has nothmg to parallel the 
disgusting baseness, the mean,sordid cowardice of the English 
and Anglo-Irish lords and legislators. Theirs was not a 
change of religious convictions, right or wrong, but a greedy 
venality, a facile readiness to change any way or every way 
for worldly advantage. Their model of policy was Judas 
Iscariot, who sold our Lord for thirty pieces of silver. 

That Ireland also was not carried over into the new system 
was owing to the circumstance that the English authority 
had, so far, been able to secure for itself but a partial hold on 
the Irish nation. It must have been a curious reflection with 
the supreme pontiffs, that Ireland might in a certain sense 
be said to have been saved to the Catholic Church by its 
obstinate disregard of exhortations addressed to it repeatedly, 
if not by the popes, under cover or ostensible sanction of 
papal authority, in support of the English crown ; for had 
the Irish yielded all that the English king demanded with 
Papal bull in hand, and become part and parcel of the English 
realm, Ireland, too, was lost to the old faith. At this point 
one is tempted to indulge in bitter reflections on the course 
of the Roman pontiffs towards Ireland. " Hitherto" — (so one 
might put it) — "that hapless nation in its fearful struggle 
agamst ruthless invaders found Rome on the side of its foes. 
It was surely a hard and a cruel thing for the Irish, so devot- 
edly attached to the Holy See, to behold the rapacious and 
blood-thirsty Normans, Plantagenets and Tudors, able to 
flourish against them Papal bulls and rescripts, until now 
when Henry quarrelled with Rome. Now — henceforth — too 
late — all that is to be altered ; henceforth the bulls and the 
rescripts are all to exhort the broken and ruined Irish nation to 
fight valiantly against that power to which, for four hundred 
years, the Roman court had been exhorting or commanding 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 211 

it to submit. Surely Ireland has been the sport of Roman 
policy, if not its victim !" 

These bitter reflections would be not only natural but just, 
if the facts of the case really supported them. But the facts 
do not quite support this view, which, it is singular to note, 
the Irish themselves never entertained. At all times they 
seem to have most justly and accurately appreciated the real 
attitude of the Holy See towards them, and fixed the value 
and force of the bulls and rescripts obtained by the English 
sovereign at their true figure. The conduct of the popes 
was not free from reproach in a particular subsequently to be 
noted : but the one thing they had really urged, rightly or 
wrongly, on the Irish from the first was the acceptance of 
the sovereignty of the English king, by no means implying 
an incorporation with the English nation, or an abandonment 
of their nationality. In this sense the popes' exhortations 
were always read by the native Irish ; and it will be noted 
that in this sense from the very beginning the Irish princes 
very generally were ready to acquiesce in them. The idea, 
rightly or wrongly, appears to have been that this strong 
sovereignty would be capable of reducing the chaotic elements 
in Ireland (given up to such hopeless disorder previously ) to 
compactness and order — a good to Ireland and to Christendom. 
This was the guise in which the Irish question had always 
been presented by plausible English envoys, civil or ecclesias- 
tical, at Rome. The Irish themselves did not greatly quarrel 
with it so far ; but there was all the difference in the world 
between this the theory and the bloody and barbarous fact 
and practice as revealed in Ireland. 

What may be said with truth is, that the popes inquired too 
little about the fact and practice, and were always too ready 
to write and exhort upon such a question at the instance of 
the English. The Irish chiefs were sensible of this wrong done 
them ; but in their every act and word they evidenced a per- 
fect consciousness that the rectitude of the motives animating 
the popes was not to be questioned. Even when the authority 
of the Holy See was most painfully misused against them, 
they received it with reverence and respect. The time had 
at length arrived, however, when Rome was to mourn over 



212 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

whatever of error or wrong had marked its past policy to- 
wards Ireland, and for ever after nobly and unchangeably to 
stand by her side. But alas ! too late — all too late now for 
succeeding ! All the harm had been done, and was now beyond 
repairing. The grasp of England had been too firmly tight- 
ened in the past. At the very moment when the Pope desir- 
ed, hoped, urged, and expected Ireland to arise triumphant 
and glorious, a free Catholic nation, a recompense for lost 
England, she sank broken, helpless, and despairing under the 
feet of the sacriles^ious Tudor. 




— 

.{^ 

XXXIV.— HOW THE IRISH CHIEFS GAVE UP ALL HOPE AND 
YIELDED TO HENRY; AND HOW THE IRISH CLANS SERVED 
THE CHIEFS FOR SUCH TREASON. 

ENRY THE EIGHTH was the first English sovereign 
styled King of Ireland, and it must be confessed he 
had more to show for assuming such a title than his 
predecessors had for the lesser dignities of the kind 
which they claimed; inasmuch as the title was " voted" to 
him in the first formal parliament in which Irish chieftains 
and Anglo-Norman lords sat side by side. To be sure the 
Irish chieftains had no authority from the septs (from whom 
alone they derived any authority or power) to give such a 
vote ; and, as we shall learn presently, some of those septs 
instantly on becoming aware of it and the consequences it 
implied, deposed the chiefs thus acting, and promptly elected 
(in each case from the same family, however) others in their 
stead. But never previously had so many of the native 
princes in a manner so formal given in their acknowledgment 
of the English dynasty, and their renunciation of the ancient 
uistitutions of their nation. Utterly broken down in spirit, 
reft of hope, weary of struggle, they seem to have yielded 
themselves up to inevitable fate. " The arguments," says one 
of our historians, " by which many of the chiefs might have 
justified themselves to the clans in i 541-2-3, for submitting to 



THE STORY OP IRELAND. 213 

the inevitable laws of necessity, in rendering homage to Henry 
the Eighth, were neither few nor weak. Abroad there was 
no hope of an alliance sufficient to counterbalance the immense 
resources of England ; at home, life-wasting private wars, the 
conflict of laws, of languages, and of titles to property had 
become unbearable. That fatal family pride which would not 
permit an O'Brien to obey an O'Neill, nor an O'Connor to 
follow either, rendered the establishment of a native monarchy 
(even if there had been no other obstacle) wholly impractic- 
able." Another says : '"' The chief lords of both English and 
Irish descent were reduced to a state of deplorable misery 

and exhaustion It was high time, therefore, on the 

one side to think of submission, and prudent on the other to pro- 
pose concession ; and Henry was just then fortunate in select- 
ing a governor for Ireland who knew how to take advantage 
of the favorable circumstances." This was Saint-leger, whose 
politic course of action resulted in the assembling at Dub- 
lin, I2th June, 1541, of a parliament at which, besides all 
the principal Anglo-Norman lords, there attended, Donogh 
O'Brien, tanist of Thomond, the O'Reilly, O'More, M'VVil- 
liam, Fitzpatrick, and Kavanagh. * The speeches in the 
English language were translated in the Gaelic tongue to 
the Irish chiefs by the Earl of Ormond. The main business 
was to consider a bill voting the crown of Ireland to Henry, 
which was unanimously passed — registered rather ; for, as 
far as the native" legislators" were concerned, the assemblage 
was that of conquered and subdued chieftains, ready to ac- 
knowledge their subjection in any way. O'Neill and O'Donnell 
refused to attend. They held out sullenly yet awhile in the 
North. Butinthenextyear they "came in," much to the de- 
light of Henry, who loaded them with flatteries and attentions. 
The several chiefs yielded up their ancient Irish titles, and con- 
sented to receive English instead. O'Brien was created Earl 
of Thomond ; Ulick M' William was created Earl of Clanrick- 
ard and Baron Dunkellin ; Hugh O' Donnell was made Earl 

* Son of M'Murrogh who had just previously "submitted," renouncing the title 
of M'Murrogh, adopting the name of Kavanagh, and undertaking on the part of his 
sept, that no one henceforth would assume the renounced title ! 



214 THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 

of Tyrconnel ; O'Neill was made Earl of Tyrone ; Kavanagh 
was made Baron of Ballyann ; and Fitzpatrick, Baron of 
Ossory. Most of these titles were conferred by Henry in 
person at Greenwich palace, with extravagant pomp and 
formality, the Irish chiefs having been specially invited 
thither for that purpose, and sums of money given them 
for their equipment and expenses. In many instances, if not 
in all, they consented to receive from Henry royal patents or 
title deeds for " their" lands, as the English from their feudal 
stand-point would regard them ; not tJieir lands, however, in 
point of fact and law, but the " tribe-lands" of their septs. 
The acceptance of these " patents" of land proprietorship, 
still more than the acceptance of English titles, was " a com- 
plete abrogation of the Gaelic relation of clansman and 
chief." Some of the new earls were moreover apportioned a 
share of the plundered Church lands. This was yet a further 
outrage on their people. Little need we wonder, therefore, 
that while the newly created earls and barons were airing 
their modern dignities at the English court, feted and flatter- 
ed by Henry, the clans at home, learning by dark rumor of 
these treasons, were already stripping the backsliding chiefs 
of all authority and power, and were taking measures to arrest 
and consign them to punishment on their return ! O'Donnell 
found most of his clan, headed by his son, up in arms against 
him ; O'Brien, on his return, was confronted by like circum- 
stances ; the new " Earl of Clanrickard" was incontinently 
attainted by his people, and a Gaelic " M'William" was duly 
installed in his stead. O'Neill, " the first of his race who had 
accepted an English title," found that his clansmen had for- 
mally deposed him, and elected as the O'Neill, his son John, 
surnamed " John the Proud" — the celebrated " Shane" O'Neill 
so called in the jargon of the English writers. On all sides 
the septs repudiated and took formal and practical measures 
to disavow and reverse the acts of their representatives. 
The hopelessness that had broken the spirit of the chief found 
no place in the heart of the clan. 

This was the beginning of new complications in the already 
tangled skein of Irish affairs. A new source of division and 
disorganization was now planted in the country. Hitherto the 



THE STORY OF IREIAND. 215 

clans at least were intact, though the nation was shattered. 
Henceforth the clans themselves were split into fragments. 
From this period forward we hear of a king's or a queen's 
O'Reilly and an Irish O'Reilly ; a king's O'Neill and an Irish 
O'Neill; a king's O'Donnelland an Irish O'Donnell. The 
English government presented a very artful compromise to 
the septs — ofifering them a chief of the native family stock, but 
requiring that he should hold from the crown, not from the 
clan. The nominee of the government, backed by all the Eng- 
lish power and interest, was generally able to make head for a 
time as least against the legitimate chief duly and legally 
chosen and elected by the sept. In many instances the Eng- 
lish nominee was able to rally to his side a considerable section 
of the Clan, and even without external aid to hold the chosen 
chief in check. By the internal feuds thus incited, the clans 
were utterly riven, and were given over to a self-acting pro- 
cess of extinction. Occasionally, indeed, the crown nommee, 
once he was firmly seated in the chieftaincy, threw off all al- 
legiance to his foreign masters, declared himself an /rw/z chief, 
cast away scornfully his English earlship, and assumed proud- 
ly the ancient title that named him head of his clan. In this 
event the government simply declared him " deposed," pro- 
ceeded to nominate another chief in his place, and sent an 
army to install the new nominee on the necks of the stubborn 
clan. This was the artful system — copied in all its craft and 
cruelty by the British in India centuries afterwards — pursued 
towards the native princes and chiefs of Ireland from the reign 
of Henry the Eighth to the middle of the seventeenth cen- 
tury. 




216 THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 



\i 
XXXV. — henry's successors : EDWARD, MARY, AND ELIZA- 
BETH. THE CAREER OF "JOHN THE PROUD." 

HE changes of English sovereigns little affected English 
policy in Ireland. Whatever meaning the change 
from Henry to Edward, from Edward to Mary, and 
from Mary to Elizabeth, may have had in England, in 
Ireland it mattered little who filled the throne : the policy of 
subjugation, plunder, and extirpation went on. In Mary's 
reign, indeed, incidents more than one occurred to show that, 
though of course bent on completing the conquest and an- 
nexation of Ireland, she was a stranger to the savage and cruel 
passions that had ruled her father, and that were so fearfully 
mherited by his other daughter, Elizabeth. The aged chief 
of Offaly, O'Conor, had long lain in the dungeons of London 
Tower, all efforts to obtain his release having failed. At 
length his daughter Margaret, hearing that now a queen — a 
ivonian — sat on the throne, bethought her of an appeal in 
person to Mary for her father's life and freedom. She pro- 
ceeded to London and succeeded in obtaining an audience of 
the queen. She pleaded with all a woman's eloquence, and 
with all the fervor of a daughter petitioning for a father's 
life ! Mary was touched to the heart by this instance of devot- 
edness. She treated young Margaret of Offaly with the 
greatest tenderness, spoke to her cheeringly, and promised 
her that what she had so bravely sought should be freely 
granted. And it was so. O'Conor Paly returned with his 
daughter to Ireland a free man. 

Nor was this the only instance in which Mary exhibited a 
womanly sympathy for misfortune. The fate of the Gerald- 
ines moved her to compassion. The young Gerald^long 
time a fugitive among the glens of Muskery and Donegal, now 
an exile sheltered in Rome — was recalled and restored to all 
his estates, honors, and titles; and with O'Conor Faly and 



THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 



217 



the young Geraldine there were allowed to return to their 
homes, we are told, the heirs ol the houses of Ormond and 
Upper Ossory, " to the great delight ol the southern halt ol 
the kingdom." 

To Mary there succeeded on the English throne her Amaz- 
onian sister, Elizabeth. The nobles and commoners ol Eng- 
land, had, as in Mary s case, at her lather's request, declared 
and decreed as the immortal and unchangeable truth that she 
was illegitimate ; but. according to their code ol morality, 
that was no earthly reason against their now declaring and de- 
creeing as the immortal and unchangeable truth that she was 
legitimate. For these very noble nobles and most uncommon 
commoners eat dirt with a hearty zest, and were ready to 
decree and declare, to swear and unswear, the most contra- 
dictory and irreconcilable assertions according as their ve- 
nality and servility suggested, 

Elizabeth was a woman of marvel lous ability. She possessed 
abundantly the talents that qualily a statesman. She was 
greatly gilted indeed : but nature, while richly endowing her 
with so much else besides, lorgotor withheld from her one of 
the commonest gilts ol human kind — Elizabeth had no heart- 
A woman devoid ol heart is. after all, a terrible freak of na- 
ture. She may be gifted with marvellous powers of intellect, 
and endowed with great personal beauty, but she is still a 
monster. Such was Elizabeth : a true Tudor and veritable 
daughter ol King Henry the Eighth ; one of the most remark- 
able women of her age, and m one sense one of the greatest 
of English sovereigns 

Her reign was memorable in Irish history. It witnessed 
at Its opening the revolt of John the Proud in Ulster ; later 
on the Desmond rebellion : and towards the close the great 
struggle that to all time will immortalize the name of Hugh 
O'Neill. 

John the Proud, as I have already mentioned, was elected 
to the chieftaincy of the O'Neills on the deposition of his 
father by the clan. He scornfully defied all the efTorts of the 
English to dispute his claim, and soon thev were fain to re- 
cognize him and court his friendship. Of thi^ extraordinary 



:218 THE STORY OF liiELAND. 

man litlle mure can be said in praise than that he was an in- 
domitable and, up to the great reverse which suddenly closed 
his career, a successful soldier, who was able to defy and de- 
feat the best armies of England on Irish soil, and more than 
once to bring the English government very submissively to 
terms of his dictation. But he lacked the personal virtues 
that adorned the lives and inspired the efforts of the great 
<ind brave men whose struggles we love to trace in the annals 
of Ireland. His was, indeed, a splendid military career, and 
his administration of the government of his territory was un- 
doubtedly exemplary in many respects, but he was in private 
life no better than a mere English noble of the time ; his con- 
duct towards the unfortunate Calvach O Donnell leaving a 
lasting stain on his name.* The state papers of England 
reveal an incident in his life, which presents us with an 
authenticated illustration of the means deemed lawful by the 
English Government often enough in those centuries for the 
removing of an Irish foe. John had reduced all the north to his 
sway, and cleared out every vestige of English dominion in 
Ulster, He had encountered the English commander-in-chier 
and defeated him. He had marched to the very confines of 
Dublin, spreading terror through the Pale. In this strait 
Sussex, the lord lieutenant, bethought him of a good plan for 
the effectual removal of this dangerous enemy to the crown 
and government. With the full cognizance and sanction of 
the queen, he hired an assassin to murder O'Neill. The plot, 
however, miscarried, and we should probably have never 
heard of it, but that, very awkwardly for the memory of Eliza- 
beth and of her worthy viceroy, some portions of their cor- 

• He invaded the ODonnell's ter-ritory, and acting, it is said, on information se- 
cretly supplied by the unfaithful wife of the Tyrconnell chief, succeeded in surprising 
and capturing him. He kept O'Donnell, who was his father-in-law, for years a close 
prisoner, and lived in open adultery with the perfidious wife of the imprisoned chief, 
-the step-mother of his own lawful wife ! ' What deepens the horror of this odious 
domestic tragedy." says M'Gee " is the fact that the wife of O'Neill, the daughter 
•of O'Donnell, thus supplanted by her shameless step-mother under her own rouf 
died soon afterwards of 'horror loathing grief and deep anguish' at the spectacle 
afforded by the private life of O'Neill, and the severities inflicted on her wretched 
lather 1 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 219 

respondence on the subject remained undestroyed amongst 
the state papers, and are now to be seen in the State Paper 
Office ! The career of John the Proud closed suddenly and 
miserably. He was utterly defeated (a.d. 1567) in a great 
pitched battle by the O'Donnells; an overthrow which it is 
said aflfected his reason. Flying from the field with his guilty 
mistress, his secretary, and a bodyguard of fifty horsemen, 
he was induced to become the guest of some Scottish adven- 
turers in Antrim, upon whom he had mflicteda severe defeat 
not long previously. After dinner, when most of those present 
were under the influence of wine — John it is said, having been 
purposely plied with drink — an Englishman who was pre- 
sent, designedly got up a brawl, or pretence of a brawl, 
about O'Neill's recent defeat of his then guests. Daggers 
were drawn in an instant, and the unfortunate John the Proud, 
while sitting helplessly at the banqueting board, was sur. 
rounded and butchered ! 



^2U THE STORY OF IRELAND. 




XXXVI.— HOW THE GERALDINES ONCE MORE LEAGUED 
AGAINST ENGLAND UNDER THE BANNER OF THE CROSS. 
HOW "THE ROYAL POPE" WAS THE EARLIEST AND THE 
MOST ACTIVE ALLY OF THE IRISH CAUSE. 

HE death of John the Proud gave the English power 
respite in the north ; but, respited for a moment in the 
north, that power was doomed to encounter danger 
still as menacmg in the south. Once more the Gerald- 
mes were to put it severely to the proof. 

Elizabeth had not witnessed and studied in vain the events 
of her father's reign; She very sagaciously concluded, that 
if she would safely push her war against the Catholic faith in 
Ireland, she must first get the dreaded Geraldines out of the 
way. And she knew, too, from all previous events, how 
necessarv it was to guard that not even asolitary seedling of that 
dangerous race was allowed to escape. She wrote to Sydney, 
her lord lieutenant, to lay a right cunning snare for the catching 
of the Geraldines in one haul. That faithful viceroy of a gra- 
cious queen forthwith " issued an invitation for the nobility of 
Ireland to meet him on a given day in the city of Dublin, to con- 
fer with him on some matters of great weight, particularly re- 
gardingreligion." The bait took. "The dynasts of Ireland, little 
suspecting the design hastened to the city, and along with them 
the Earl of Desmond and his brother John." They had a safe 
conduct from Sydney, but had scarcely arrived when they 
were seized and committed to the castle dungeons, whence 
they were soon shipped off to the tower of London. This 
was the plan Elizabeth had laid, but it had only partially succeed- 
ed. All the Geraldines had not come into the snare, and she took 
five years to decide whether it would be worth while murder- 
ing these (according to law), while so many other members of 
the family were yet outside her grasp. The earl and his 
brother appear not to have been imprisoned, but merely held 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 221 

to residence under surveillance in London. According to the 
version of the family chronicler, they found means of transmit- 
ting a document or message to their kinsmen and retainers, ap- 
pointing their cousin James son of Maurice — known as James 
Fitzmaurice — to be the head and leader of the family in their 
absence, " for he was well-known for his attachment to the 
ancient faith, no less than for his valor and chivalry." " Glad- 
ly," says the old chronicler, "did the people of Earl Desmond 
receive these commands, and inviolable was their attachment 
to him who was now their appointed chieftain. " 

This was that James Fitzmaurice of Desmond — " James 
Geraldine of happy memory," as Pope Gregory calls him — 
who originated, planned, and organized the memorable Gerald- 
ine League of 1579, upon the fortunes of which for years the 
attention of Christendom was fi.xed. With loftier, nobler, holier 
aims than the righting of mere family wrongs he conceived 
the idea of a great league in defence of religion ; a holy war, 
in which he might demand the sustainment and intervention of 
the Catholic powers. Elizabeth's own conduct at this juncture 
in stirring up and subsidizing the Huguenots in France sup- 
plied Fitzmaurice with another argument in favor of his scheme. 
First of all he sent an envoy to the Pope — Gregory the Thir- 
teenth — demanding the blessing and assistance of the Supreme 
Pontiff in this struggle of a Catholic nation against a monarch 
nakedly violating all title to allegiance. The act of an apostate 
sovereign of a Catholic country drawing the sword to compel 
his subjects into apostacy on pain of death, was not only a for- 
feiture of his title to rule, it placed him outside the pale of law. 
civil and ecclesiastical. This was Henry's position when he 
died ; to this position, as the envoy pointed out, Elizabeth 
succeeded '"with a vengence ;" and so he prayed of Pope Greg- 
ory, " his blessing on the undertaking and the concession of 
indulgences which the Church bestows on those who die in 
defence of the faith." The Holy Father Hung himself earnest- 
ly and actively into the cause. "Then," says the old Geraldine 
chaplain, "forth flashed the sword of the Geraldine ; like chaff 
did he scatter the host of reformers ; fire and devastation did 
he carry into their strongholds, so that during five years he 



222 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

won many a glorious victor}-, and carried off innumerable 
trophies." 

This burst of rhapsody, excusable enough on the part of the 
old Geraldine chronicler, gives, however, no faithful idea of 
what ensued ; many brilliant victories, it is true, James Gerald- 
ine achieved in his protracted struggle. But after five years 
of valiant efifort and of varied fortunes, the hour of reverses 
came. One by one Fitzmaurice's allies were struck down or 
fell away Irom him, until at length he himself with a small 
force stood to bay in the historic Glen of Aherlow, which " had 
now become to the patriots of the south what the valley of 
Glenmalure had been for those ol Leinster — a fortress dedi- 
cated by nature to the defence of freedom." Here he held out 
for a year . but, eventually, he despached envoys to the lord 
president at Kilmallock to make terms of submission, which 
were duly granted. VV^hether from motives of policy, or in 
compliance with these stipulations, the imprisoned earl and 
his brother were forthwith released in London ; the queen 
making them an exceedingly smooth and bland speech against 
the sin of rebellion. The gallant Fitzmaurice betook himself 
into exile, there to plot and organize with redoubled energy 
in the cause of Faith and Country ; while the earl of Des- 
mond, utterly disheartened no doubt by the result of James's 
revolt, and " only too happy to be tolerated in the possession 
of his 570,000 acres, was eager enough to testify his allegiance 
by any sort of service." 

Fitzmaurice did not labor in vain. He went from court to 
court pleading the cause he had so deeply at heart. He was 
received with honor and respect everywhere ; but it was only 
at Rome that he obtained that which he valued beyond per- 
sonal honors for himself— aid in men, money, and arms for 
the struo-gle in Ireland. A powerful expedition was fitted out 
at Civita Vecchia by the sovereign pontiff; and from various 
princes of Europe secret promises of further aid were show- 
ered upon the brave Geraldine. He little knew, all this time, 
while he in exile was toiling night and day— was pleading, 
urging, beseeching— planning, organizing, and directing— full 
of ardor and of faithful courageous resolve, that his coun: 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 223 

tryraen at home — even hisown kinsmen — weretemporizingand 
compromising with the lord president ' He little knew that, 
instead of finding Ireland ready to welcome him as a deliverer, 
he was to land in the midst of a prostrate, dispirited, and 
apathetic population, and was to find some of his own relatives, 
not only fearing to countenance, but cravenly arrayed against 
him' It was even so. As the youthful Emmett exclaimed of 
hisown project against the British crown more than two hun- 
dred years subsequently, we may say of Fitzmaurice's — " There 
was failure in every part." By some wild fatality everything 
miscarried. There was concert nowhere : there was no one 
engaged m the cause of ability to second James's efforts ? and 
what misfortune marred, incompetency ruined. The Pope's 
expedition, upon which so much depended, was diverted from 
its destination by its incompetent commander, an English ad- 
venturer named Stukely, knave or fool, to whom in an evil 
hour, James had unfortunately confided such a trust, Stukely, 
having arrived at Lisbon on his way to Ireland, and havmg 
there learned that the king of Portugal was setting out on an 
expedition against the Moors, absolutely joined his forces to 
those of Dom Sebastian, and accompanied him,* leaving James 
of Desmond to learn as best he might of this inexplicable im- 
becility, if not cold-blooded treason ! 

Meanwhile, in Ireland, the air was thick with rumors, vague 
and furtive, that James was "on the sea," and soon to land 
withaliberatuig expedition. The government was, of course, 
on the alert, fastening Us gaze with lynx-eyed vigilance on all 
men likely to join the " foreign emissaries," as the returning 
Irish and their friends were styled; and around the south- 
western coast of Ireland wasinstantlv drawn a line of British 
cruisers. The government fain would have seized upon the 
earl of Desmond and his brothers, but it was not certain 
whether this would aid or retard the apprehended revolt; for, 
so far, these Geraldines protested their opposition to it, and 
to them — to the earl in particular — the population of the south 



• Stukely, and most of his force, perished on the bloody field of Alcazarquebir, 
where Dom Sebastian and two Moorish kings likewise fell. 



224 THE STOKY OF IKELAND. 

looked for leadership. Yet, in sooth, the English might have 
■believed the earl, who, hoping nothing of the revolt, yet sym- 
pathizing secretly with his kmsmen, was in a sad plight what 
to do, anxious to be •' neutral," and trying to convince the 
lord president that he was well affected. The government 
party, on the other hand, trusting him nought, seemed anx- 
ious to goad him into some " overt act " that would put him 
utterly in their power. While all was excitement about the 
expected expedition, lo! three suspicious strangers were land- 
ed at Dingle from a Spanish ship ! They were seized as 
" foreign emissaries," and were brought first before the earl 
of Desmond. Glad of an opportunity for showing the gov- 
ernment his zeal, he forthwith sent them prisoners to the lord 
president at Kilmallock. In vain they protested that they 
were not conspirators or invaders. And indeed they were 
not, though they were what was just as bad in the eyes of 
the law, namely, Catholic ecclesiastics, one of them being Dr. 
O'Haly, bishop of Mayo, and another, Father Cornelius 
O'Rorke. To reveal what they really were would serve them 
little ; inasmuch as hanging and beheading as " rebels " was in 
no way different from hanging and beheading as " Popish eccle- 
siastics." Yet would the authorities insist that they were vile 
foreign emissaries. They spoke with a Spanish accent ; they 
wore their beard in the Spanish fashion, and their boots were 
of Spanish cut. So to force a confession of what was not 
truth out of them, no effort was spared. They were "put to 
every conceivable torture," says the historian, " in order to ex- 
tract intelligence of Fitzmaurice's movements." After their 
thighs had been broken with hammers they were hanged on a 
tree, and their bodies used as targets by the soldiery. 

By this time James, all unconscious of Stukely's defection, 
had embarked from Spain for Ireland, with a few score Spanish 
soldiers in three small ships. He brought with him Dr. 
Saunders, Papal legate, the bishop of Killaloe, and Dr. Allen. 
The little fleet, after surviving shipwreck on the coast of 
Gallicia, sailed into Dingle Harbor 17th July, 1579- Here 
James first tasted disheartening disillusion. His great kins- 
man the earl, so far from marching to welcome him and sum- 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 225 

moning the country to rise, "sent him neither sign of friend- 
ship nor promise of cooperation." This was discouragement 
indeed; yet Fitzmaurice was not without hope that when in 
a few days the main expedition under Stukely would arrive, 
the earl might think more hopefully of the enterprise, and 
rally to it that power which he alone could assemble in Munster. 
So, weighing anchor, James steered for a spot which no doubt 
he had long previously noted and marked as preeminently 
suited by nature for such a purpose as this of his just now — 
Illan-an-Oir, or Golden Island, in Smerwick harbor, on the 
north-west Kerry coast, destined to be famed in story as Fort 
del Ore. This was a singular rock, a diminutive Gibraltar, 
jutting into the harbor or bay of Smerwick. Even previously 
Its natural strength as a site for a fort had been noticed, and a 
rude fortification of some sort crowned the rock. Here James 
landed his small force, threw up an earthwork across the nar- 
row neck of land connecting " the Isle of Gold " with the main- 
land, and waited for news of Stukely. 

But Stukely never came ! There did come, however, un- 
fortunately for James, an English man of war, which had little 
difficulty in capturing his transports within sight of the helpless 
fort. All hope of the expected expedition soon fled, or mayhap 
its fate became known, and matters grew desperate on lUan- 
an-Oir. Still the earl made no sign. His brothers John and 
James, however, less timid or more true to kinship, had 
chivalrously hastened to join Fitzmaurice. But it was clear 
the enterprise was lost. The government forces were muster- 
ing throughout Munster, and nowhere was help being organiz- 
ed. In this strait it was decided to quit the fort and endeavor to 
reach the old fastnesses amidst the Galtees. The little band 
in their eastward march were actually pursued by the earl of 
Desmond, not very much in earnest indeed — in downright 
sham, the English said, yet in truth severely enough to compel 
them to divide into three fugitive groups, the papal legate and 
the other dignitaries remaining with Fitzmaurice. Making 
a desperate push to reach the Shannon, his horses utterly ex- 
hausted, the brave Geraldine was obliged to impress into his 
service some horses belonging to Sir William Burke, through 



226 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

whose lands he was then passing. Burke, indeed, was a rel- 
ative of his, and Fitzmaurice thought that revealing his 
name would silence all objection. On the contrary, however, 
this miserable Burke assembled a force, pursued the fugitives, 
and fell upon them, as "few and faint," jaded and outworn, 
they had halted at the little river Mulkern m Limerick county. 
Fitzmaurice was wounded mortally early in the fray, yet his 
ancient prowess flashed out with all its native brilliancy at the 
last. Dashing into the midst of his dastard foes, at one blow 
he clove to earth Theobald Burke, and in another instant laid 
the brother of Theobald mortally wounded at his feet. The 
assailants, though ten to one, at once turned and fled. But alas ! 
vain was the victory — James Geraldine had received his death 
wound I Calmly receiving the last rites of the Church at 
the hands of Dr. Allen, and having with his last breath dictated 
a message to his kinsmen enjoining them to take up the banner 
fallen in his hand, and to fight to the last in the holy war — 
naming his cousin John of Desmond as leader to succeed him — 
the chivalrous Fitzmaurice breathed his last sigh. " Such," 
says the historian, " was the fate of the glorious hopes of Sir 
James Fitzmaurice ! So ended in a squabble with churls 
about cattle, on the banks of an insignificant stream, a career 
which had drawn the attention of Europe, and had inspired 
with apprehension the lion-hearted English queen ! " 

Faithful to the dying message of Fitzmaurice, John of Des- 
mond now avowed his resolution to continue the struggle ; 
which he did bravely, and not without brilliant results. But 
the earl still " stood on the fence." Still would he fain persuade 
the government that he was quite averse to the mad designs 
of his unfortunate kinsmen ; and still the government, fully 
believing him a sympathizer with the movement, lost no oppor- 
tunity of scornfully taunting him with insinuations. Eventu- 
ally they commenced to treat his lands as the possessions of an 
enemy, wasting and harrying them ; and at length the earl, 
finding too late that in such a struggle there was for him no 
neutrality, took the field. But this step on his part, which if 
it had been taken earlier, might have had a powerful effect, 
was now, as I have said,all too late for any substantial influence 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 227 

upon the lost cause. Yet he showed by a few brilliant victories 
at the very outset that he was, in a military sense, not all un- 
worthy ol his position as First Geraldine. The Spanish king, 
too, had by this time been moved to the aidof the struggle. The 
Fort del Ore once more received an expedition from Spain, 
where this time there landed a force of 700 Spaniards and 
Italians, under the command of Sebastian San Josef Hercules 
Pisano, and the Duke of Biscay. They brought moreover 
arms for 5,000 men, a large supply of money, and cheering 
promises of still further aid from over the sea. Lord Grey 
the deputy, quickly saw that probably the future existence of 
British power in Ireland depended upon the swift and sudden 
crushing of this formidable expedition ; accordingly with all 
vehemence did he strain every energy to concentrate with 
rapidity around Fort del Ore, by land and sea, an overwhelm- 
ing force before any aid or cooperation could reach it from 
the Geraldines. "Among the officers of the besieging force were 
three especially notable men — Sir Walter Raleigh, the poet 
Spenser, and Hugh O'Neill — afterwards Earl of Tyrone, but 
at this time commanding a squadron of cavalry for her majesty 
queen Elizabeth. San Josef surrendered the place on conditions ; 
that savage outrage ensued, which is known in Irish history as 
' the massacre of Smerwick.' Raleigh and Wingfield appear to 
have directed the operations by which 800 prisoners of war 
were cruelly butchered and flung over the rocks. The sea 
upon that coast is deep, and the tide swift ; but it has not prov- 
ed deep enough to hide that horrid crime, or to wash the stains 
of such wanton bloodshed from the memory of it authors ! "* 
It may be said that the Geraldine cause never rallied after 
this disaster. "For four years longer," says the historian whom 
I have just quoted, " the Geraldine League flickered in the 
South. Proclamations offering pardon to all concerned, ex- 
cept earl Gerald and a few of his most devoted adherents, had 
their effect. Deserted at home, and cut off from foreign assist- 
ance, the condition of Desmond grew more and more intoler- 
able. On one occasion he narrowly escaped capture by rush- 
ing with his countess into a river, and remaining concealed 



'M'Gee. 



228 THE STOBY OF IRELAND. 

up to the chin in water. His dangers can hardly be paralleled 
by those of Bruce after the battle of Falkirk, or by the more 
familiar adventures of Charles Edward. At length, on the 
night of the i ilh November, 1584, he was surprised with only 
two followers in a lonesome valley, about five miles distant from 
Tralce, among the mountains of Kerry. The spot is still re- 
membered, and the name of ' the Earl's Road ' transports the 
fancy of the traveller to that tragical scene. Cowering over the 
embers of a half-extinct fire in a miserable hovel, the lord of a 
country which in time of peace had yielded an annual rental of 
'40,000 golden pieces,' was despatched by the hands of com- 
mon soldiers, without pity, or time, or hesitation. A few fol- 
lowers watching their creaghts or herds, farther up the valley, 
found his bleeding trunk flung out upon the highway ; the 
head was transported over seas to rot upon the spikes of 
London Tower." 

Such was the end of the great Geraldine League of 1579. 
Even the youngest of my readers must have noticed in its 
plan and constitution, one singular omission which proved a 
fatal defect. It did not raise the issue of national indepen- 
dence at all. It made no appeal to the national aspirations 
for liberty. It was simply a war to compel Elizabeth to de- 
sist from her bloody persecution of the Catholic faith. Fur- 
thermore it left out of calculation altogether the purely Irish 
elements. It left all the northern half of the kingdom out of 
sight. It was only a southern movement. The Irish princes 
and chiefs — those of them most opposed to the English power 
— never viewed the enterprise with confidence or sympathy. 
Fitzmaurice devoted much more attention to foreign aid than 
to native combination. In truth his movement was simply 
an Anglo-Irish war to obtain freedom of conscience, and never 
raised issues calculated to call forth the united efforts of the 
Irish nation in a war against England. 

Before passing to the next great event of this era, I may 
pause to note here a few occurrences worthy of record, but for 
which I did not deem it advisable to break in upon the consec- 
utive narration of the Geraldine war. My endeavor throughout 
is to present to my young readers in clear and distinct outline, 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 229 

a sketch of the chief Qw^nt of each period more or less complete 
by itself, so that it may be easily comprehended and remem- 
bered. To this end I omit many minor incidents and occur- 
rences, which, if engrafted or brought in upon the main narra- 
tive, might have a tendency to confuse and bewilder the facts 
in one's recollection. 



XXXVII — HOW COMMANDER COSBY HELD A "* FEAST " AT MUL- 
LAGHMAST; AND HOW "RUARI OGE" RECOMPENSED THAT 
"HOSPITALITY." A VICEROY'S VISIT TO GLENMALURE, AND 
HIS RECEPTION THERE. 

\ 

T was within the period which we have just passed over, 
that the ever-memorable massacre of Mullaghmast 
^f^ occurred. It is not, unhappily, the only tragedy of the 
^^ kind to be met with in our blood-stained annals ; yet it 
is of all the most vividly perpetuated in popular tradi- 
tions. In 1577, Sir Francis Cosby, commanding the queen's 
troops in Leix and Offaly, formed a diabolical plot for the 
permanent conquest of that district. Peace at the moment 
prevailed between the government and the inhabitants ; but 
Cosby seemed to think that in extirpation lay the only effec- 
tual security for the crown. Feigning, however, great friend- 
ship, albeit suspicious of some few "evil disposed" persons, 
said not to be well-affected, he invited to a grand feast all the 
chief families of the territory ; attendance thereat being a sort 
of test of amity. To this summons responded the flower of 
the Irish nobility in Leix and Offaly, with their kinsmen and 
friends — the O'Mores, O'Kellys, Lalors, O'Nolans, etc. The 
" banquet" — alas ! — was prepared by Cosby in the great Rath 
or Fort of Mullach-Maisten, . or Mullaghmast, in Kildare 
county. Into the great rath rode many a pleasant cavalcade 
that day ; but none ever came forth that entered in. A gen- 
tleman named Lalor who had halted a little way off, had his 
suspicions in some way aroused. He noticed, it is said, that 



230 THE STORY OF lEELAND. 

while many went into the rath, none were seen to reappear 
outside. Accordingly he desired his friends to remain behind 
while he advanced and reconnoitred. He entered cautiously. 
Inside, what a horrid spectacle met his sight ! At the very 
entrance the dead bodies of some of his slaughtered kinsmen I 
In an instant he himself was set upon ; but drawing his sword, 
he hewed his way out of the fort and back to his friends, and 
they barely escaped with their lives to Dysart! He was the 
only Irishman, out of more than four hundred who entered 
the fort that day, that escaped with life ! The invited guests 
were butchered to a man ; one hundred and eighty of the 
O' Mores alone having thus perished. 

The peasantry long earnestly believed and asserted that on 
the encircled rath of slaughter rain nor dew never fell, and 
that the ghosts of the slain might be seen, and their groans 
distinctly heard " on the solemn midnight blast" ! — 

O'er the Rath of Mullaghmast, 
On the solemn midnight blast, 
What bleeding spectres pass'd 

With their gashed breasts bare ! 

Hast thou heard the fitful wail 
That o'erloads the sullen gale 
When the waning moon shines pale 

O'er the cursed ground there ! 

Hark ! hollow moans arise 

Through the black tempestuous skies, 

And curses, strife, and cries, 

From the lone rath swell ; 

For bloody Sydney there 
Nightly fills the lurid air 
With the unholy pompous glare 

Of the foul, deep hell. 

False Sydney ! knighthood's stain ! 
The trusting brave— in vain 
Thy guests— ride o'er the plain 

To thy dark cow'rd snare ; 

Flow'r of Offaly and Leix, 

They have come thy board to grace — 

Fools ! to meet a faithless race, 

Save with true swords bare. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 231 

While cup and song abound, 

The triple lines surround 

The closed and guarded mound, 

In the night's dark noon. 

Alas ! too brave O'Moore, 

Ere the revelry was o'er. 

They have spill'd thy young heart's gore, 

Snatch'd from love too soon ? 

At the feast, unarmed all, 
Priest, bard, and chieftain fall 
In the treacherous Saxon's hall. 

O'er the bright wine bowl ; 

And now nightly round the board. 
With unsheath d and reekmg sword, 
Strides the cruel felon lord 

Of the blood stain'd soul. 

Since that hour the clouds that pass'd 
O'er the Rath of MuUaghmast, 
One tear have never cast 



For the shower of crimson rain 
That o'erflowed that fatal plain, 
Cries aloud, and not in vain, 



On the gore dyed sod ; 



To the most high God ! 



A sword of vengeance tracked Cosby from that day. In 
Leix or Oflfaly after this terrible blow there was no raising 
a regular force : yet of the family thus murderously cut down, 
there remained one man who thenceforth lived but to avenge 
his slaughtered kindred. This was Ruari Oge O'Moore, the 
guerilla chief of Leix and Offaly, long the terror and the 
scourge of the Pale. While he lived, none of Cosby's " under- 
takers" slept securely in the homes of the plundered race. 
Swooping down upon their castles and mansions, towns and 
settlements, Ruari became to them an Angel of Destruction. 
When they deemed him farthest away, his sword of ven- 
geance was at hand. In the lurid glare of burning roof and 
blazing granary, they saw like a spectre from the rath, the 
face of an O'Moore; and, above the roar of the flames, 
the shrieks of victims, or the crash of falling battlements, 
they heard in the hoarse voice of an implacable avenger — 
" Remember MuUaghmast J " 



232 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

And the sword of Ireland still was switt and strong to pur- 
sue the author ol that bloody deed, and to strike him and his 
race through two generations. One by one they met their 
doom — 

In (he lost battle 

Borne down by the flying ; 
Where mingle war's rattle 

With the groans of the dying. 

On the bloody day of Glenmalure, when the red flag of 
England went down in the battle's hurricane, and Elizabeth's 
proud viceroy. Lord Gray de Wilton, and all the chivalry of 
the Pale were scattered and strewn like autumn leaves in the 
gale, Cosby of MuUaghmast fell in the rout, sent swiftly to 
eternal judgment with the brand of Cain upon his brow. A 
like doom, a fatality, tracked his children from generation to 
generation 1 They too perished by the sword or the battle-axe 
— the last of them, son and grandson, on one day, by the stroke 
of an avenging O'More* — until it may be questioned if there 
now exists a human being in whose veins runs the blood of 
the greatly infamous knight commander, Sir Francis Cosby. 

The battle of Glenmalure was fought 25th of August 1580. 
That magnificent defile, as I have already remarked, in the 
words of one of our historians, had long been for the patriots 
of Leinster "a fortess dedicated by nature to the defence of free- 
dom : " and never had fortress of freedom a nobler soul to 
command its defence than he who now held Glenmalure for 
God and Ireland — Feach M'Hugh O'Byrne, of Ballinacor, 
called by the English " The Firebrand of the Mountains." 
In his time no sword was drawn for liberty in any corner of 
the island, near or far, that his own good blade did not leap 
responsively from its scabbard to aid " the good old cause." 
Whether the tocsin was sounded in the north or in the south, 
it ever woke pealing echoes amidst the hills of Glenmalure. As 
in later years, Feach of Ballinacor was the more trusted and 
faithful of Hugh O'Neill's friends and allies, so was he now 



*" Ouney,.son of Ruari Oge O'More, slew Alexander and Francis Cosby, son and 
grandson of Cosby of MuUaghmast, and routed their troops with great slaughter, at 
Stradbally Bridge,' 19th May, 1597.". 



THE STOr.Y or IRELAND. 233 

in arms stoutly battling for the Geraldinc league. His son-in- 
law, Sir Francis Fitzgerald, and James Eustace, Viscount 
Baltinglass, had rallied what survived of the clansmen of 
Idrone, Offaly, and Leix, and had effected a junction with him, 
taking up strong positions in the passes of Slieveroe and 
Glenmalure. Lord Grey of Wilton arrived as lord lieuten- 
ant from England on the 12th August. Eager to signalize 
his advent to office by some brilliant achievement, he rejoiced 
greatly that so near at hand — within a day's march of Dublin 
Castle — ^an opportunity presented itself. Yes ! He would 
measure swords with this wild chief of Glenmalure who had 
so often defied the power of England. He would extinguish 
the " Firebrand of the Mountain," and plant the cross of St. 
George on the ruins of Ballinacor ! So, assembling a right royal 
host, the haughty viceroy marched upon Glenmalure. The 
only accounts which we possess of the battle are those con- 
tained in letters written to England by Sir William Stanley 
and others of the lord lieutenant's officials and subordinates; 
so that we may be sure the truth is very scantily revealed. 
Lord Grey having arrived at the entrance to the glen, seems to 
have had no greater anxiety then to " hem in" the Irish. So he 
constructed a strong earthwork or entrenched camp at the 
mouth of the valley the more effectually to stop " escape ! " 
It never once occurred to the vain-glorious English viceroy 
that it was he himself and his royal army that were to play 
the part of fugitives in the approaching scene ! All being in 
readiness. Lord Grey gave the order of the advance ; he and 
a group of courtier friends taking their place on a high 
ground commanding a full view up the valley, so that they 
might lose nothing of the gratifying spectacle anticipated. 
An ominous silence prevailed as the English regiments push- 
ed their way into the glen. The courtiers waxed witty ; they 
wondered whether the game had not " stolen away ; " they 
sadly thought there would be " no sport ; " or they halloed 
right merrily to the troops to follow on and " unearth" the 
" old fox." After a while the way became more and more 
tedious. " We were," says Sir William Stanley, " forced to 
slide sometimes three or four fathoms ere we could stay 
our feet ; " the way being " full of stones, rocks, logs, and 



23-i THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 

wood ; in the bottom thereof a river full of loose stones which 
we were driven to cross divers times." At length it seemed 
.good to Feach M'Hugh O'Byrne to declare that the time had 
come for action. Then from the forest-clad mountain sides 
there burst forth a wild shout whereat many of the jesting 
courtiers turned pale ; and a storm of bullets assailed the en- 
tangled English legions. As yet the foe was unseen ; but his 
execution was disastrous. The English troops broke into dis- 
order. Lord Grey, furious and distracted, ordered up the 
reserves ; but now Feach passed the word along the Irish lines 
to charge the foe. Like the torrents of winter pouring down 
those hills, down swept the Irish force from every side upon 
the struggling mass below. Vain was all effort to wrestle 
against such a furious charge. From the very first it became 
a pursuit. How to escape was now each castle courtier's 
wild endeavor. Discipline was utterly cast aside in the panic 
rout ! Lord Grey and a few attendants fled early, and by fleet 
horses saved themselves ; but of all the brilliant host the vice- 
roy had led out of Dublin a few days before, there returned 
but a few shattered companies to tell the tale of disaster, and 
to surround with new terrors the name of Feach M'Hugh, 
the " Firebrand of the Mountains." 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 23^ 




XXXVIII.—" HUGH OF DUNGANNON." HOW QUEEN ELIZA- 
BETH BROUGHT UP THE YOUNG IRISH CHIEF AT COURT 

WITH CERTAIN CRAFTY DESIGNS OF HER OWN. ,>j 

J 

HERE now appears upon the scene of Irish history 
that remarkable man whose name will live in sons' 
and story as long as the Irish race survives ; leader of 
one of the greatest struggles ever waged against the 
Anglo-Norman subjugation; Aot) (pronounced Aeh), Angli- 
cised Hugh O'Neill; called in English "patents" Earl of 
Tyrone. 

Ever since the closing years of the eighth Henry's reign — 
the period at which, as I have already explained, the poHcy 
of splitting up the clans by rival chiefs began to be adopted by 
the English power — the government took care to provide itself, 
by fair means or by foul, with a supply of material from which 
crown chiefs might be taken. That is to say, the government 
took care to have in its hands, and trained to its own purposes, 
some member or members of each of the ruling families — the 
O'Neills, O'Reillys, O'Donnells, M' Guires, O'Connors, etc., 
ready to be set up as the king's or queen's O'Neill, O'Reilly, or 
O'Donnell, as the case might be, according as policy dictated 
and opportunity offered. One of these govern ment/r^/^/i- was - 
Hugh O'Neill, who, when yet a boy, was taken to London 
and brought up in the court of Elizabeth. As he was a 
scion of the royal house of O'Neill, and, in English planning 
destined one day to play the most important part as yet 
assigned to a queen's chief in Ireland, viz., the reducing to 
subserviency of that Ulster which formed the standing menace 
of English power, the unconquerable citadel of nationality, 
the boy Hugh — the young Baron of Dungannon as he was 
called — was the object of unusual attention. He was an 
especial favorite with the queen, and as may be supposed 
the courtiers all, lords and ladies, took care to pay him suit- 



yl 



23 G THE STORY OF IBEIAND. 

able obeisance. No pains were spared with his education. 
He had the best tutors to attend upon him, and above all he 
was assiduously trained into court finesse, how to dissemble, 
and with smooth and smiling face to veil the true workings 
of mind and heart. In this way it was hoped to mould the 
young Irish chief into English shape for English purposes ; 
it never once occurring to his royal tramers that nature 
some day might burst forth and prove stronger than courtly 
artificiality, or that the arts they were so assiduously teach- 
ing the boy chief for the ruin of his country's independence, 
misfht be turned aorainst themselves. In due time he was 
sent into the army to perfect his military studies, and event- 
ually (fully trained, polished, educated, and prepared for the 
role designed for him by his English masters) he took up his 
residence at his family seat in Dungannon. 

Fortunately for the fame of Hugh O'Neill, and for the Irish 
nation in whose history he played so memorable a part, the 
life of that illustrious man has been written in our generation 
by a biographer worthy of the theme. Amongst the masses 
of Irishmen, comparatively little would be known of that 
wondrous career had its history not been popularized by 
John Mitchel's Life of HugJi O'Neill. The dust of centuries 
had been allowed to cover the noble picture drawn from life 
by the master hand of Don Philip O'Sullivan Beare — a writer 
but for whom we should now be without any contempor- 
aneous record of the most eventful period of Anglo- Irish his- 
tory save the unjust and distorted versions of bitterly partizan 
English officials.* Don Philip's history, however, was prac- 
tically inaccessible to the masses of Irishmen ; and to Mr. 
Mitchel is almost entirely owing the place O'Neill now 
holds — his rightful prominence — in popular estimation. 

* To Don Philip's great work the Hisiorice Catholica: Ibernicf, we are indebted for 
nearly all that we know of this memorable struggle. " He is," says Mr. Mitchel, 
"the only writer, Irish or foreign, who gives an intelligible account of O'Neill's 
battles ; but he was a soldier as well as a chronicler." Another writer says, "The 
loss of this history could not be supplied by any work extant." Don Philip was 
nephew to Donal, last lord of Beare, of whom we shall hear more anon. The 
Historic Ibemia was written in Latin and published about the year 1621, in Lisbon, 
the O'Sullivans having settled in Spain after the fall of Dunboy. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 237 

Mr. Mitchel pictures the great Ulster chieftain to us a pa- 
triot from the beginning ; adroitly and dissemblingly biding 
his time ; learning all that was to be learned in the camp of 
the enemy ; looking far ahead into the future, and shaping his 
course from the start with fixed purpose towards the goal of 
national independence. This, however, cannot well be con- 
sidered more than a " view," a " theory," a " reading." O' Neill 
was, during his earlier career, in purpose and in plan, in mind, 
manner, and action, quite a different man from the O'Neill of 
his later years. It is very doubtful that he had any patriotic 
aspirations after national independence — much less any fixed 
policy or design tending thereto — until long after he first found 
himself, by the force of circumstances, m collision with the 
English power. In him we see the conflicting influences of 
nature and nature-repressing art His Irishism was ineradic- 
able, though long dormant. His court tutors strove hard to 
eliminate it, and to give him instead a " polished" Englishism ; 
but they never more than partially succeeded. They put a 
court lacquer on the Celtic material, and the superficial wash 
remained for a few years, not more. The voice of nature was 
ever crying out to Hugh O'Neill. For some years after leav- 
ing court, he lived very much like any other Anglicised or 
EngHsh baron, in his house at Dungannon. But the touch of 
his native soil, intercourse with neighboring Irish chieftains, 
and the force of sympathy with his own people, now surround- 
ing him, were gradually telling upon him. His life then be- 
came a curious spectacle of inconsistencies, as he found him- 
self pulled and strained in opposite directions by opposite 
sympathies, claims, commands, or impulses; sometimes, in 
proud disregard of his English masters, behaving like a true 
Irish O'Neill ; at other times swayed by his foreign allegiance 
into acts of very obedient suit and service to the queen's cause. 
But the day was gradually nearing when these struggles be- 
tween two allegiances were to cease, and when Hugh, with 
all the fervor of a great and noble heart, was to dedicate his 
life to one unalterable purpose, the overthrow of English rule 
and the liberation of his native land ! 



238 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 



XXXIX. — HOW LORD DEPUTY PERROT PLANNED A RIGHT CUN- 
NING EXPEDITION, AND STOLE AWAY THE YOUTHFUL PRINCE 
OF TYRCONNELL. HOW, IN THE DUNGEONS OF DUBLIN CAS- 
TLE, THE BOY CHIEF LEARNED HIS DUTY TOWARDS ENGLAND ; 
AND HOW HE AT LENGTH ESCAPED AND COMMENCED DIS- 
CHARGING THAT DUTY. 




E AN WHILE, years passed 
by, and another Hugh had 
^'^ begun to rise above the 
northern horizon, amidst 
signs and perturbations boding 
no good to the crown and gov- 
ernment of the Pale. This was 
Hugh O'Donnell— " Hugh Roe" 
or " Red Hugh" — son of the reign- 
ing chief of Tyrconnell. Young 
O'Donnell, who was at this time " a fiery stripling of fifteen, 
was already known throughout the five provinces of Ireland, 
not only ' by the report of his beauty, his agility, and his no- 
ble deeds,' but as a sworn foe to the Saxons of the Pale ;" and 
the mere thought of the possibility of the two Hughs — Hugh 



THE STOBY OF lEELAND. 239 

of Tyrone and Hugh of Tyrconnell — ever forming a combin- 
ation, sufficed to fill Dublin Castle with dismay. For already 
indeed, Hugh O'Neill's " loyalty'' was beginning to be con- 
sidered rather unsteady. To be sure, as yet no man durst 
whisper a word against him in the queen's hearing ; and he 
was still ready at call to do the queen's fighting against 
southern Geraldine, O'Brien, or Mac Caura. But the astute 
in these matters noted that he was unpleasantly neighborly 
and friendly with the northern chiefs and tanists ; that, so far 
from maintaining suitable ill-will towards the reigning O'Neill 
(whom the queen meant him some day to overthrow), Hugh 
had actually treated him with respect and obedience. More- 
over "the English knew," says the chronicler of Hugh Roe, 
"that it was Judith^ the daughter of O'Donnell, and sister of 
the beforementioned Hugh Roe, that was the spouse and best 
beloved of the Earl O'Neill.* ' Those six companies of troops 
also," says Mr. Mitchel, ** that he kept on foot (in the queen's 
name, but for his own behoof) began to be suspicious in the 
eyes of the state ; for it is much feared that he changes the 
men so soon as they thoroughly learn the use of arms, replac- 
ing them by others, all of his own clansmen, whom he dili- 
gently drills and reviews for some unknown service. And the 
lead he imports — surely the roofing of that house of Dungan- 
non will not need all these ship-loads of lead ; — lead enough 
to sheet Glenshane, or clothe the sides of Cairnocher. And, 
indeed, a rumor does reach the deputy in Dublin, that there 
goes on at Dungannon an incredible casting of bullets. No 
wonder that the eyes ot the English government began to turn 
anxiously to the north." 

" And if this princely Red Hugh should live to take the 
leading of his sept — and if the two potent chieftains of the 
north should forget their ancient feud, and unite for the cause 
of Ireland," proceeds Mr. Mitchel, " then, indeed, not only 
this settlement of the Ulster ' counties' must be adjourned, 
one knows not how long ; but the Pale itself or the Castle of 
Dublin might hardly protect her majesty's officers. These 
were contingencies which any prudent agent of the queen 
of England must speedily take order to prevent ; and we are 
now to see Ferret's device for that end. 



240 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

"Near Rathmullan, on the western shore of Lough Swilly, 
looking towards the mountains of Innishowen, stood a monas- 
tery ot Carmelites and a church dedicated to the Blessed 
Virgin, the most famous place of devotion in Tyrconnell, 
whither all the clan-Connell, both chiefs and people, made re- 
sort at certain seasons to pay their devotions. Here the young 
Red Hugh, with Mac Swyne of the battle-axes, O'Gallagher 
of Ballyshannon, and some other chiefs, were in the summer 
of 1587 sojourning a short time in that part to pay their vows 
of religion ; but not without stag-hounds and implements of 
chase, having views upon the red-deer of Fanad and Innis- 
howen. One day, while the prince was here, a swift- sailing 
merchant ship doubled the promontory of Dunafif, stood up 
the lough, and cast anchor opposite Rathmullan ; a ' bark, 
blackhatched, deceptive,' bearing the flag of England, and 
offering for sale, as a peaceful trader, her cargo of Spanish 
wine. And surely no more courteous merchant than the mas- 
ter of that ship had visited the north for many a year. He 
invited the people most hospitably on board, solicited them, 
whether purchasers or not, to partake of his good cheer, en- 
tertained them with music and wine, and so gained very speed- 
ily the good will of all Fanad. Red Hugh and his compan- 
ions soon heard of the obliging merchant and his rare wines. 
They visited the ship, where they were received with all re- 
spect, and, indeed, with unfeigned joy ; descended into the 
cabin, and with connoisseur discrimination tried and tasted, 
and finally drank too deeply ; and at last when they would 
come on deck and return to the shore, they found themselves 
secured under hatches ; their weapons had been removed ; 
night had fallen ; they ^^xo, prisoners to those traitor Saxons. 
Morning dawned, and they looked anxiously towards the 
shore ; but, ah ! where is Rathmullan and the Carmelite church ? 
And what wild coast is this ? Past Malin and the chffs of Innis- 
howen; past Benmore, and southward to the shores of Antrim 
and the mountains of Mourne flew that ill-omened bark, and 
never dropped anchor till she lay under the towers of Dublin. 
The treacherous Perrot joyfully received his prize, and 'exult- 
ed,' says an historian, ' in the easiness and success with which 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 2il 

he had procured hostages for the peaceable submission of 
O'Donnell.' And the prince of Tyrconnell was thrown into 
' a strong stone castle,' and kept in heavy irons three years 
and three months, 'meditating,' says the chronicle, 'on the 
feeble and impotent condition of his friends and relations, of 
his princes and supreme chiefs, of his nobles and clergy, his 
poets and professors.' " * 

Three long and weary years — oh ! but they seemed three 
ages! — the young Hugh pined in the grated dungeons of that 
" Birmingham Tower," which still stands in Dublin Castle 
yard. How the fierce hot spirit of the impetuous northern 
youth chafed in this cruel captivity ! He, accustomed daily 
to breathe the free air of his native hills in the pastimes of the 
chase, now gasped for breath in the close and fetid atmosphere 
of a squalid cell ! He, the joy and pride of an aged father — 
the strong hope of a thousand faithful clansmen — was now the 
helpless object of jailers' insolence, neglect, and persecution ! 
*' Three years and three months," the old chroniclers tell us, 
— when hark! there is whispering furtively betimes as young 
Hugh and Art Kavanagh, and other of the captives meet on 
the stone stairs, or the narrow landing, by the warders* gra- 
cious courtesy. Yes; Art had a plan of escape. Escape! 
Oh ! the thought sends the blood rushing hotly through the 
veins of Red Hugh. Escape! Home! Freedom on the 
Tyrconnell hills once more ! O blessed, thrice blessed words ! 

It is even so. And now all is arranged, and the daring at- 
tempt waits but a night favorably dark and wild — which 
comes at last; and while the sentries shelter themselves from 
the pitiless sleet, the young fugitives, at peril of life or limb, 
are stealthily scaling or descending bastion and battlement, 
fosse and barbican. With beating hearts they pass the last 
sentry, and now through the city streets they grope their way 
southwards; for the nearest hand of succor is amidst the val- 
leys of VVicklow. Theirs is a slow and toilsome progress ; 
they know not the paths, and they must hide by day and fly 
as best they can in the night-time through wooded country. 

• Mitchel's Life of Hugh O'Neill. 



242 THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 

At length they cross the Three Rock Mountain, and look 
down upon Glencree. But alas ! Young Hugh sinks down 
exhausted ! Three years in a dungeon have cramped his 
limbs, and he is no longer the Hugh that bounded like a deer 
on the slopes of Glenvigh ! His feet are torn and bleeding 
from sharp rock and piercing bramble ; his strength is gone ; 
he can no further fly. He exhorts his companions to speed 
onwards and save themselves, while he secretes himself in the 
copse and awaits succor if they can send it. Reluctantly, and 
only yielding to his urgent entreaties, they departed. A 
faithful servant, we are told, who had been in the secret of 
Hugh's escape, still remained with him, and repaired for suc- 
cor to the house of Felim O'Tuhal, the beautiful site of whose 
residence is now called Powerscourt. Felim was known to 
be a friend, though he dared not openly disclose the fact. 
He was too close to the seat of the English power, and was 
obliged to keep on terms with the Pale authorities. But now 
" the flight of the prisoners had created great excitement in 
Dublin, and numerous bands were despatched in pursuit of 
them." It was next to impossible — certainly full of danger 
— for the friendly O'Tuhal, with the English scouring-parties 
spread all over hill and vale, to bring in the exhausted and help- 
less fugitive from his hiding place, where nevertheless he must 
perish if not quickly reached. Sorrowfully and reluctantly 
Felim was forced to conclude that all hope of escape for young 
Hugh this time must be abandoned, and that the best course 
was to pretend to discover him in the copse, and to make a 
merit of giving him up to his pursuers. So, with a heart 
bursting with mingled rage, grief, and despair, Hugh found 
himself once more in the gripe of his savage foes. He was 
brought back to Dublin " loaded with heavy iron fetters," 
and flung into a narrower and stronger dungeon, to spend 
another year cursing the day that Norman foot had touched 
the Irish shore. 

There he lay until Christmas Day, 25th December, 1592, 
" when," says the old chronicle, "it seemed to the Son of the 
Virgin time for him to escape." Henry and Art O'Neill, 
fellow-prisoners, were on this occasion companions of Hugh's 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 243 

flight. In fact the lord deputy, Fitzwilliam, a needy and cor- 
rupt creature, had taken a bribe from Hugh O'Neill to afford 
opportunity for the escape. Hugh of Dunganncn had de- 
signs of his own in desiring the freedom ot all three ; for 
events to be noted further on had been occurring, and already 
he was, like a skilful statesman, preparing for future contin- 
gencies. He knew that the liberation of Red Hugh would 
give him an ally worth half Ireland, and he knew that rescu- 
ing the two O'Neills would leave the government without a 
" queen's O'Neill" to set up against him at a future day. Of 
this escape Haverty gives us the following account : — 

" They descended by a rope through a sewer which opened 
into the Castle ditch ; and leaving there the soiled outer gar- 
ments, they were conducted by a young man, named Turlough 
Roe O'Hagan, tJic confidential servant or emissary of tJic Earl 
of Tyrone, who was sent to act as their guide. Passing 
through the gates of the city, which were still open, three of 
the party reached the same Slieve Rua which Hugh had vis- 
ited on the former occasion. The fourth, Henry O'Neill, 
strayed from his companions in some way — probably before 
they left the city — but eventually he reached Tyrone, where 
the earl seized and imprisoned him. Hugh Roe and Art 
O'Neill, with their faithful guide, proceeded on their way over 
the Wicklow mountains towards Glenmalure, to Feagh Mac 
Hugh O'Byrne, a chief famous for his heroism, and who was 
then in arms against the government. Art O'Neill ha^ grown 
corpulent in prison, and had besides been hurt in descending 
from the Castle, so that he became quite worn out from fa- 
tigue. The party were also exhausted with hunger, and as 
the snow fell thickly, and their clothing was very scanty, they 
suffered additionally from intense cold. For awhile Red 
Hugh and the servant supported Art between them ; but this 
exertion could not long be sustained, and at length Red Hugh 
and Art lay down exhausted under a lofty rock, and sent the 
servant to Glenmalure for help. With all possible speed 
Feagh O'Byrne, on receiving the message, despatched some 
of his trusty men to carry the necessary succor ; but they ar- 
rived almost too late at the precipice under which the two 



^4-i THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

youths lay. ' Their bodies,' say the Four masters, * were 
covered with white-bordered shrouds of hailstones freezing 
around them, and their light clothes adhered to their skiiT, 
so that, covered as they were with the snow, it did not appear to 
the men who had arrived that they were human beings at all, 
for they found no life in their members, but just as if they 
were dead.' On being raised up, Art O'Neill fell back and 
expired, and was buried on the spot; but Red Hugh was re- 
vived with some difficulty, and carried to Glenmalure, where 
he was secreted in a sequestered cabin and attended by a 
physician." 

Mr. Mitchel describes for us the sequel. " O'Byrne brought 
them to his house and revived and warmed and clothed them, 
and instant!}^ sent a messenger to Hugh O'Neill (with whom 
he was then in close alliance) with the joyful tidings of 
O'Donnell's escape. O'Neill heard it with delight, and sent 
a faithful retainer, Tirlough Buidhe O'Hagan, who was well 
acquainted with the country, to guide the young chief into 
Ulster. After a few days of rest and refreshment, O'Donnell 
and his guide set forth, and the Irish chronicler minutely 
details that perilous journey ; — how they crossed the Lififey 
far to the westward of Fitzwilliam's hated towers, and rode 
cautiously through Fingal and Meath, avoiding the garrisons 
of the Pale, until they arrived at the Boyne, a short distance 
west of Inver Colpa (Drogheda), 'where the Danes had built 
a noble city'; how they sent round their horses through the 
town, and themselves passed over in a fisherman's boat ; how 
they passed by Mellifont, a great monastery, 'which belonged 
to a noted young Englishman attached to Hugh O'Neill,' and 
therefore met with no interruption there ; rode right through 
Dundalk, and entered the friendly Irish country, where they 
had nothing more to fear. One night they rested at Feadth 
Mor (the Fews), where O'Neill's brother had a house, and 
the next day crossed the Blackwater at Moy, and so to 
Dungannon, where O'Neill received them right joyfully. 
And here ' the two Hughs' entered into a strict and cordial 
friendship, and told each other of their wrongs and of their 
hopes. O'Neill listened, with such feelings as one can 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 



245 



imagine to the story of the youth's base kidnapping and 
cruel imprisonment in darkness and chains ; and the impetuous 
Hugh Roe heard with scornful rage of the English deputy's 
atrocity towards Mac Mahon, and attempts to bring his ac- 
cursed sheriffs and juries amongst the ancient Irish of Ulster. 
And they deeply swore to bury for ever the unhappy feuds 
of their families, and to stand by each other with all the 
powers of the North against their treacherous and relentless 
foe. The chiefs parted, and O'Donnell, with an escort of the 
Tyrowen cavalry, passed into Mac Gwire's country. The 
chief of Fermanagh received him with honor, eagerly joined in 
the confederacy, and gave him 'a black polished boat,' in which 
the prince and his attendants rowed through Lough Erne, 
and glided down that 'pleasant salmon-breeding river' which 
leads to Ballyshannon and the ancient seats of the Clan-Conal, 
" We may conceive with what stormy joy the tribes of 
Tyrconnell welcomed their prince ; with what mingled pity 
and wrath, thanksgivings and curses, they heard of his chains, 
and wanderings, and sufferings, and beheld the feet that used 
to bound so lightly on the hills, swollen and crippled by that 
cruel frost, by the crueller fetters of the Saxon. But little 
time was now for festal rejoicing or the unprofitable luxury 
of cursing ; for just then. Sir Richard Bingham, the English 
leader in Connaught, relying on the irresolute nature of old 
O'Donnell, and not aware of Red Hugh's return, had sent 
two hundred men by sea to Donegal, where they took by 
surprise the Franciscan monastery, drove away the monks 
(making small account of their historic studies and learned 
annals), and garrisoned the buildings for the queen. The 
fiery Hugh could ill endure to hear of these outrages, or 
brook an English garrison upon the soil of Tyrconnell. He 
collected the people in hot haste, led them instantly into 
Donegal, and commanded the English by a certain day and. 
hour to betake themselves with all speed back to Connaught, 
and leave behind them the rich spoils they had taken; all 
which they thought it prudent without further parley to do. 
And so the monks of St. Francis returned to their home and 
their books, gave thanks to God, and prayed, as well they 
might, for Hugh O'DonnelL" 



246 THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 




XL. — HOW HUGH OF DUNGANNON WAS MEANTIME DRAWING 
OFF FROM ENGLAND AND DRAWING NEAR TO IRELAND. 

URING the four years over which the imprisonment 
of Red Hugh extended, important events had been 
transpiring in the outer world ; and amidst them 
the character of Hugh of Dungannon was under- 
going a rapid transmutation. We had already seen him 
cultivating friendly relations with the neighboring chiefs, 
though most of them were in a state of open hostility to 
the queen. He, by degrees, went much farther than this. 
He busied himself in the disloyal work of healing the 
feuds of the rival clans, and extending throughout the north 
feelings of amity — nay, a net- work of alliances between 
them. To some of the native princes he lends one or two 
of his fully trained companies of foot ; to others, some troops 
of his cavalry. He secretly encourages some of them (say 
his enemies at court) to stouter resistance to the English. 
It is even said that he harbors Popish priests. " North of 
Slieve Gullion the venerable brehons still arbitrate undisturb- 
ed the causes of the people ; the ancient laws, civilization, and 
religion stand untouched. Nay, it is credibly rumored to 
the Dublin deputy that this noble earl, forgetful apparently 
of his coronet and golden chain, and of his high favor with so 
potent a princess, does about this time get recognized and 
solemnly inaugurated as chieftain of his sept, by the pro- 
scribed name of * T/ie O'Neill; ' and at the rath of TuUoghoge, 
on the Stone of Royalty, amidst the circling warriors, amidst 
the bards and oUamhs of Tyr-eoghain, ' receives an oath to 
preserve all the ancient former customs of the country in- 
violable, and to deliver up the succession peaceably to his 
tanist ; and then hath a wand delivered to him by one whose 
proper office that is, after which, descending from the stone, 
heturneth himself round thrice forward and thrice backward,' 



THE STORY OF lEELAND. 247 

even as the O'Neills had done for a thousand years ; altogether 
in the most un-English manner, and with the strangest cere- 
monies which no garter king-at-arms could endure." 

While matters were happening thus in Ulster, England was 
undergoing the excitement of apprehended invasion. The 
Armada of Philip the Second was on the sea, and the English 
nation — queen and people — Protestant and Catholic — persecu- 
tor and persecuted — with a burst of genuine patriotism, pre- 
pared to meet the invaders. The elements however, averted 
the threatened doom. A hurricane of unexampled fury scatter- 
ed Philip's flotilla, so vauntingly styled "invincible;" the ships 
were strewn, shattered wrecks, all over the coasts of England 
and Ireland. In the latter country the crews were treated 
very differently, according as they happened to be cast upon 
the shores of districts amenable to English authority or influ- 
ences, or the reverse. In the former instances they were 
treated barbarously — slain as queen's enemies, or given up 
to the queen's forces. In the latter, they were sheltered and 
succored, treated as friends, and afforded means of safe re- 
turn to their native Spain. Some of these ships were cast up- 
on the coast of O'Neill's country, and by no one were the 
Spanish crews more kindly treated, more warmly befriended, 
than by Hugh, erstwhiles the queen's most favored protege, 
and still professedly her most true and obedient servant. 
This hospitality to the shipwrecked Spaniards, however, is 
too much for English flesh and blood to bear. Hugh is 
openly murmured against in Dublin and in London. And soon 
formal proof of his " treason" is preferred. An envious cous- 
in of his, known as John of the Fetters — a natural son of John 
the Proud, by the false wife of O'Donnell — animated by a 
mortal hatred of Hugh, gave information to the lord deputy 
that he had not only regaled the Spanish officers right royal- 
ly at Dungannon, but had then and there planned with them 
an alliance between himself and king Philip, to whom Hugh 
— so said his accuser— had forwarded letters and presents by 
the said officers. All of which the said accuser undertook to 
prove, either upon the body of Hugh in mortal combat, or 
before a jury well and truly packed or empannelled, as the 



248 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

case might be Whereupon there was dreadful commotion 
in Dublin Castle. Hugh's reply was — to arrest the base in- 
former on a charge of treason against the sacred person and 
prerogatives of his lawful chief. Which charge being prov- 
ed, John of the Fetters was at once executed. Indeed some 
accounts say that Hugh himself had to act as executioner; 
since in all Tyrone no man could be prevailed upon to put to 
death one of the royal race of Niall — albeit an attained and 
condemned traitor. Then Hugh, full of a fine glowing in- 
dignation against these accusing murmurers in Dublin, sped 
straightway to London, to complain of them to the queen, 
and to convince her anew, with that politic hypocrisy taught 
him (for quite a different use, though) in that same court, that her 
majesty had no more devoted admirer than himself. And he 
succeeded. He professed and promised the most ample loy- 
alty. He would undertake to harbor no more popish priests; 
he would admit sheriffs into Tyrone ; he would no more mo- 
lest chiefs friendly to England, or befriend chiefs hostile to 
the queen ; and as for the title of " The O'Neill," which, it was 
charged, he gloried in, while feeling quite ashamed of the 
mean English title, " Earl of Tyrone," he protested by her 
majesty's most angelic countenance (ah, Hugh !) that he mere- 
ly adopted it lest some one else might possess himself there- 
of ; but if it in the least offended a queen so beautiful and so 
exalted, why he would disown it for ever ! * Elizabeth was 
charmed by that dear sweet-spoken young noble — and so 
handsome too. (Hugh, who was brought up at court, knew 
Elizabeth's weak points.) The Lord of Dungannon returned 
to Ireland higher than ever in the queen's favor; and his eni- 
mies in Dublin Castle were overturned for that time. 

The most inveterate of these was Sir Henry Bagnal, com- 
mander of the Newry garrison. "The marshal and his Eng- 
Hsh garrison in the castle and abbey of Newry," says Mr. 



* Thus, according to the tenor of English chroniclers ; but as a matter of fact Hugh 
had not at this time been elected as The O'Neill. This event occurred subsequently; 
the existing O'Neill having been persuaded or compelled by Hugh Roe cif Tyrconnell 
to abdicate, that the dans might, as they desired to do, elect Hugh of Dungannon in 
his place. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND, 251 

Mitchel, '* were a secret thorn in the side of O'Neill, They 
lay upon one of the main passes to the north, and he had 
deeply vowed that one day the ancient monastery, ^^'zvW^zVz^- 
710, should be swept clear of this foreign soldiery. But in 
that castle of Newry the Saxon marshal had a fair sister, a 
woman of rarest beauty, whom O'Neill thought it a sin to 
leave for a spouse to some churl of an English undertaker. 
And indeed we next hear of him as a love-suitor at the feet 
of the English beauty." Haverty tells the story of this ro- 
mantic love-suit as follows : — 

" This man — the marshal, Sir Henr}- Bagnal — hated the 
Irish with a rancor which bad men are known to feel towards 
those whom they have mortally injured. He had shed a 
great deal of their blood, obtained a great deal of their lands, 
and was the sworn enemy of the whole race. Sir Henry had a 
sister who was young and exceedingly beautiful. The wife 
of the Earl of Tyrone, the daughter of Sir Hugh Mac Man- 
us O'Donnell, had died, and the heart of the Irish chieftain was 
captivated by the beautiful English girl. His love was recip- 
rocated, and he became in due form a suitor for her hand ; 
but all eflforts to gain her brother's consent to this marriage 
were in vain. The story, indeed, is one which might seem to 
be borrowed from some old romance, if we did not find it cir- 
cumstantially detailed in the matter-of-fact documents of the 
State Paper Office. The Irish prince and the English maiden 
mutually plighted their vows, and O'Neill presented to the 
lady a gold chain worth one hundred pounds ; but the inex- 
orable Sir Henry removed his sister from Newry to the house 
of Sir Patrick Barnwell, who was married to another of his 
sisters, and who lived about seven miles from Dublin. Hither 
the earl followed her. He was courteously received by Sir 
Patrick, and seems to have had many friends among the Eng- 
lish. One of these, a gentleman named William Warren, acted 
as his confidant, and at a party at Barnwell's house, the earl 
engaged the rest of the company in conversation while War- 
ren rode off with the lady behind him, accompanied by two ser- 
vants and carried her safely to the residence of a f w'end at Drum- 
condra, near Dublin. Here O'Neill soon followed, and the 



252 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 



Protestant bishop of Meath, Thomas Jones, a Lancashire man, 
was easily induced to come and unite them in marriage the 
same evening. This elopement and marriage, which took 
place on the 3rd of August, 1591, w^ere made the subject of 
violent accusations againt O'Neill. Sir Henry Bagnal was 
furious. He charged the earl with having another wife liv- 
ing; but this point was explained, as O'Neill showed that 
this lady, who was his first wife, the daughter of Sir Brian 
Mac Felim O'Neill, had been divorced previous to his mar- 
riage with the daughter of O'Donnell. Altogether the gov- 
ernment would appear to have viewed the conduct of O'Neill 
in this matter rather leniently; but Bagnal was henceforth 
his most implacable foe, and the circumstance was not with- 
out its influence on succeedino- events." 




XLT. — HOW RED HUGH WENT CIRCUIT AGAINST THE ENGLISH 
IN THE NORTH. HOW THE CRISIS CAME UPON O'NEILL. 

|Y this time young Hugh Roe O'Donnell had, as we 
have already learned, escaped from his cruel captivity 
in Dublin, mainly by the help of that astute and skil- 
ful organizer, Hugh of Dungannon. In the spring of 
the year following,"on the 3rd of May, 1 593, there wms a solemn 
meeting of the warriors, clergy, and bards of Tyrconnell, at 
the Rock of Doune, Kilmacrenan, ' the nursing place of Col- 
umbcille.* And here the father of Red Hugh renounced the 
chieftaincy of the sept, and his impetuous son at ninteen years 
of age was duly inaugurated by Erenach O'Firghil, and made 
the O'Donnell with the ancient ceremonies of his race." 

The young chief did not wear his honors idly. In the Dub- 
lin dungeons he had sworn vows, and he was not the man to 
break them ; vows that while his good right hand could draw 
a sword, the English should have no peace in Ireland. Close 
by theO'Donnell's territory, in Strabane, old Torlogh Lynagh 
O'Neill had admitted an Eng-lish force as "auxiliaries" forsooth. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 253 

"And it was a heart break," says the old chronicler, " to Hugh 
O'Donnell, that the English of Dublin should thus obtain a 
knowledge of the country." He fiercely attacked Strabane, 
and chased the obnoxious English " auxiliaries " away, " par- 
doning old Torlogh only on solemn promise not to repeat his 
offence. From this forth Red Hugh engaged himself in what 
we may call a circuit of the north, rooting out English garrisons, 
sheriffs, seneschals, or functionaries of what sort soever, as 
zealously and scrupulously as if they were plague-pests. Woe 
to the English chief that admitted a queen's sheriff within his 
territories ! Hugh was down upon him like a whirlwind ! 
O'Donnell's cordial ally in this crusade was Maguire lord of 
Fermanagh, a man truly worthy of such a colleague. Hugh 
of Dungannon saw with dire concern this premature conflict 
precipitated by Red Hugh's impetuosity. Very probably he 
was not unwilling that O'Donnell should find the English some 
occupation yet awhile in the north ; but the time had not at 
all arrived (in his opinion) for the serious and comprehensive 
undertaking of a stand up fight for the great stake of national 
freedom. But it was vain for him to try remonstrance 
with Hugh Roe, whose nature could ill brook restraint, and 
who, indeed, could not relish or comprehend at all the subtle 
and politic slowness of O'Neill. Hugh of Dungannon, how- 
ever, would not allow himself at any hazard to be pushed or 
drawn into open action a day or an hour sooner than his own 
judgment approved. He could hardly keep out of the conflict 
so close beside him, and so, rather than be precipitated pre- 
maturely into the struggle which, no doubt, he now deemed 
inevitable, and for which, accordingly, he was preparing, he 
made show of joining the queen's side and led some troops 
against Maguire. It was noted, however, that the species of 
assistance which he gave the English generally consisted in 
" moderating " Hugh Roe's punishment of them, and pleading 
with him merely to sweep them away a little more gently; 
" interfering," as Moryson informs us, " to save their lives, 
on condition of their instantly quitting the country ! " Now this 
seemed to the English (small wonder indeed) a very queer 
kind of " help." It was not what suited them at all ; and we 



251 THE STOKY OF IKELAND. 

need not be surprised that soon Hugh's accusers in Dublir. 
and in London once more, and more vehemently than ever, 
demanded his destruction. 

It was now the statesmen and courtiers of England be- 
gan to feel that craft may overleap itself. In the moment 
when first they seriously contemplated Hugh as a foe to the 
queen, they felt like " the engineer hoist by his own petard." 
Here was their own pupil, trained under their own hands, 
versed in their closest secrets, and let into their most subtle 
arts ! Here was the steel they had polished and sharpened to 
pierce the heart of Ireland, now turned against their own 
breast ! No wonder there was dismay and consternation in 
London and Dubhn — it was so hard to devise any plan against 
him that Hugh would not divine like one of themselves I Fail- 
ing any better resort, it was resolved to inveigle him into 
Dublin by offering him a safe-conduct, and, this document 
notwithstanding, to seize him at all hazards. Accordingly 
Hugh was duly notified of charges against his loyalty, and 
a royal safe-conduct was given to him that he might " come 
in and appear." To the utter astonishment of the plotters, 
he came with the greatest alacrity, and daringly confronted 
them at the council-board in the Castle ! He would have been 
seized in the room, but for the nobly honorable conduct of 
the Earl of Ormond, whose indignant letter to the lord 
treasurer Burleigh (in reply to the queen's order to seize 
O'Neill) is recorded by Carte :— " My lord, I will never use 
treachery to any man ; for it would both touch her highness's 
honor and my own credit too much ; and whosoever gave the 
queen advice thus to write, is fitter for such base service than 
I am. Saving my duty to her majesty, I would I might have 
revenge by my sword of any man that thus persuaded 
the queen to write to me." Ormond acquainted O'Neill with 
the perfidy designed against him, and told him that if he did not 
f]y that night he was lost, as the false deputy was drawing a 
cordon round Dublin. O'Neill made his escape and prepared 
to meet the crisis which now he knew to be at hand. " News 
soon reached him in the north," as Mr. Mitchel recounts, "that 
large reinforcements were on their way to the deputy from 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 255 

England, consisting of veteran troops who had fought in 
Bretagne and Flanders under Sir John Norrys, the most ex- 
perienced general in Elizabeth's service ; and that garrisons 
were to be forced upon Ballyshannon and Belleek, command- 
ing the passes into Tyrconnell, between Lough Erne and the 
sea. The strong fortress of Portmore also, on the southern bank 
of the Blackwater, was to be strengthened and well manned ; 
thus forming, with Newry and Greencastle, a chain of forts 
across the island, and a basis for future operations against the 
north." 




XLII. — O'NEILL IN ARMS FOR IRELAND. CLONTIBRET AND BEAL- 

AN-ATHA-BUIE. 

HERE was no misunderstanding all this. " It was 
clear that, let King Philip send his promised aid, or 
send it not, open and vigorous resistance must be 
made to the further progress of foreign power, or 
Ulster would soon become an English province." Moreover, 
in all respects, save the aid from Spain, Hugh was well for- 
ward in organization and preparation. A great Northern 
Confederacy, the creation of his master-mind, now spanned 
the land from shore to shore, and waited only for him to take 
his rightful place as leader, and give the signal for such a 
war as had not tried the strength of England for two hundred 
years. 

" At last," says Mitchel, "the time had come; and Dun_ 
gannon with stern joy beheld unfurled the royal standard of 
O'Neill, displaying, as it floated proudly on the breeze, that 
terrible Red Right Hand upon its snow-white folds, waving 
defiance to the Saxon queen, dawning like a new Aurora upon 
the awakened children of Heremon, 

" With a strong body of horse and foot, O'Neill suddenly 
appeared upon the Blackwater, stormed Portmore, and drove 
away its garrison, 'as carefully,' says an historian, 'as he 
would have driven poison from his heart ;' then demolished 
the fortress, burned down the bridge, and advanced into 



256 THE STor.Y or Ireland. 

O'Reilly's country, everywhere driving the English and their 
adherents before him to the south (but without wanton blood- 
shed, slaying no man save in battle, for cruelty is no where 
charged agauist O'Neill) ; and, finally, with Mac Guire and 
Mac Mahon, he laid close siege to Monaghan, which was still 
held for the queen of England. O'Donnell, on his side, cross- 
ed the Saimer at the head of his fierce clan, burst into Con- 
naught, and shutting up Bingham's troops in their strong 
places at Sligo, Ballymote, Tulsk, and Boyle, traversed the 
country with avenging fire and sword, putting to death every 
man who could speak no Irish, ravaging their lands, and send- 
ing the spoil to Tyrconnell. Then he crossed the Shannon, 
entered the Annally's, where O'Ferghal was living under 
English dominion, and devastated that country so furiously, 
that ' the whole firmament,' says the chronicle, ' was one 
black cloud of smoke.' " 

This rapidity of action took the English at complete disad- 
vantage. They accordingly (merely to gain time) feigned a 
great desire to " treat" with the two Hughs. Perhaps those 
noble gentlemen had been wronged. If so, the queen's tender 
heart yearned to have them reconciled ; and so forth. Hugh, 
owing to his court training, understood this kind of thing 
perfectly. It did not impose upon him for a moment ; yet he 
consented to give audience to the royal commissioners, whom he 
refused to see except at the head of his army, " nor would he 
enter any walled town as liege man of the queen of England." 
" So they met," we are told, " in the open plain, in the presence 
of both armies." The conditions of peace demanded by Hugh 
were : — 

1. Complete cessation of attempts to disturb the Catholic 
Church in Ireland. 

2. No more garrisons — no more sheriffs or English of^ficials 
of any sort soever to be allowed into the Irish territories, which 
should be unrestrictedly under the jurisdiction of their law- 
fully elected native chiefs. 

3. Payment by Marshal Bagnal to O'Neill of one thousand 
pounds of silver " as a marriage portion with the lady ivJioin he 
had raised to the dignity of an CNei/Ts bride."' 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 259 

We may imagine how hard the royal commissioners must 
have found it to even hearken to these propositions, especially 
this last keen touch at Bagnal. Nevertheless, they were fain 
to declare them very reasonable indeed ; only they suggested 
— merely recommended for consideration — that as a sort of 
set-ofF, the confederates might lay down their arms, beg for- 
giveness, and " discover" their correspondence with foreign 
states. Phew ! There was a storm about their ears ! Beg 
" pardon" indeed ! " The rebels grew insolent," says Morysoa. 
The utmost that could be obtained from O'Neill was a truce 
of a few days' duration. 

Early in June, Bagnal took the field with a strong force, 
and effecting a junction with Norreys, made good his march 
from Dundalk to Armagh. Not far from Monaghan is Clon- 
tibret — Cluain-Tuberaid, the " Lawn of the Spring." What 
befel there, I will relate in the words df Mr. Mitchel : — 

" The castle of Monaghan, which had been taken by Con 
O'Neill, was now once more in the hands of the enemy, and 
once more was besieged by the Irish troops. Norreys, with 
his whole force, was in full march to relieve it ; and O'Neill, 
who had hitherto avoided pitched battles, and contented him- 
self with harassing the enemy by continual skirmishes in their 
march through the woods and bogs, now resolved to meet 
this redoubtable general fairly in the open field. He chose 
his ground at Clontibret, about five miles from Monaghan, 
where a small stream runs northward through a valley enclos- 
ed by low hills. On the left bank of this stream the Irish, in 
battle array, awaited the approach of Norreys. We have no 
account of the numbers on each side, but when the English 
general came up, he thought himself strong enough to force 
a passage. Twice the English infantry tried to make good 
their way over the river, and twice were beaten back, their 
gallant leader each time charging at their head, and being the 
last to retire. The general and his brother. Sir Thomas, 
were both wounded in these conflicts, and the Irish counted 
the victory won, when a chosen body of English horse, led 
on by Segrave, a Meathian officer, of gigantic bone and height, 
spurred fiercely across the river, and charged the cavalry of 



260 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

Tyrowen, commanded by their prince in person. Segrave 
singled out O'Neill, and the two leaders laid lance in rest for 
deadly combat, while the troops on each side lowered their 
weapons and held their breath, awaiting the shock in silence. 
The warriors met, and the lance of each was splintered on 
the other's corslet, but Segrave again dashed his horse against 
the chief, flung his giant frame against his enemy, and en- 
deavored to unhorse him by the mere weight of his gauntlet- 
ted hand. O'Neill grasped him in his arms, and the combatants 
rolled together in that fatal embrace to the ground : — 

' Now gallant Saxon, hold thine own : 
No maiden's arms are round thee thrown.' 

There was one moment's deadly wrestle and a death groan : 
the shortened sword of O'Neill was buried in the Englishman's 
groin beneath his mail. Then from the Irish rank arose such 
a wild shout of triumph as those hills had never echoed before 
— the still thunder-cloud burst into a tempest — those equestri- 
an statues become as winged demons, and with their battle 
cry LaniJi-dearg-aboo, and their long lances poised in eastern 
fashion above their heads, down swept the chivalry of Tyro- 
wen upon the astonished ranks of the Saxon. The banner of 
St. George wavered and went down before that furious charge. 
The English turned their bridle-reins and fled headlong over 
the stream, leaving the field covered with their dead, and, 
worse than all, leaving with the Irish that proud red-cross 
banner, the first of its disgraces in those Ulster wars. Norre)- s 
hastily retreated southwards, and the castle of Monaghan 
was yielded to the Irish." 

This was opening the compaign in a manner truly worthy 
of a royal O'Neill. The flame thus lighted spread all over 
the northern land. Success shone on the Irish banners, and 
as the historian informs us, " at the close of the year 1595, the 
Irish power predominated in Ulster and Connacht." 

The proceedings of the next two years — 1596 and 1597 — 
during which the struggle was varied by several efforts at 
negotiation, occupy too large a portion of history to be traced 
at length in these pages. The English forces were being 



THE STOKY OF IKELAND. 261 

steadily though slowly driven in upon the Pale from nearly 
all sides, and strenuous efforts were made to induce O'Neill 
to accept terms. He invariably professed the utmost readi- 
ness to do so ; deplored the stern necessity that had driven 
him to claim his rights in the field, and debated conditions of 
peace ; but, either mistrusting the designs of the English in 
treating with him, or because he had hopes far beyond any- 
thing they were likely to concede, he managed so that the 
negotiations somehow fell through at all times. On one occa- 
sion royal commissioners actually followed and chased him 
through the country with a royal " pardon" and treaty, which 
they were beseeching him to accept, but O'Neill continued 
to " miss" all appointments with them. More than once the 
English bitterly felt that their quondam pupil was feathering 
his keenest arrows against them with plumes plucked from 
their own wing! But it was not in what they called " diplo- 
macy" alone Hugh showed them to their cost that he had not 
forgotten his lessons. He could enliven the tedium of a siege 
— and, indeed, terminate it — b}^ a ruse worthy of a humorist 
as of a strategist. On the expiration of one of the truces, we 
are told, he attacked Norreys' encampment with great fury, 
" and drove the English before him with heavy loss till they 
found shelter within the walls of Armagh." He sat down be- 
fore the town and began a regular siege ; " but the troops of 
Ulster were unused to a war of posts, and little skilled in re- 
ducing fortified places by mines, blockades, or artillery. They 
better loved a rushing charge in the open field, or the guerilla 
warfare of the woods and mountains, and soon tired of sitting 
idly before battlements of stone. O'Neill tried a stratagem. 
General Norreys had sent a quantity of provisions to relieve 
Armagh under a convoy of three companies of foot and a 
body of cavalry, and the Irish had surprised these troops by 
night, captured the stores, and made prisoners of all the con- 
voy. O'Neill caused the English soldiers to be stripped of 
their uniform, and an equal number of his own men to be 
dressed in it, whom he ordered to appear by day break as if 
marching to relieve Armagh. Then, having stationed an am- 
buscade before morning in the walls of a ruined monastery 



262 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

lying on the eastern side of the city, he sent another body of 
troops to meet the red-coated gallo-glasses, so that when day 
dawned the defenders of Armagh beheld what they imagined 
U) be a strong body of their countrymen in full march to re- 
lieve them with supplies of provisions, then they saw O'NeiU's 
troops rush to attack these, and a furious conflict seemed to 
proceed, but apparently the English were overmatched, man}- 
of them fell, and the Irish were pressing forward, pouring in 
their shot and brandishing their battle axes with all the tumult 
of a deadly fight. The hungry garrison could not endure 
this sight. A strong sallying party issued from the city and 
rushed to support their friends; but when they came to the 
field of battle all the combatants on both sides turned their 
weapons against them alone. 

"The English saw the snare that had been laid for them, 
and made for the walls again , but Con O'Neill and his party 
issued from the monastery and barred their retreat. They 
defended themselves gallantly, but were all cut to pieces, and 
the Irish entered Armagh in triumph. Stafford and the rem- 
nant of his garrison were allowed to retire to Dundalk, and 
O'Neill, who wanted no strong places, dismantled the forti- 
fications and then abandoned the town." 

Over several of the subsequent engagements in 1596 and 
1597 I must pass rapidly, to reach the more important events 
in which the career of O'Neill culminated and closed. My 
young readers can trace for themselves on the page of Irish 
history the episodes of valor and patriotism that memorize 
" Tyrrell's pass" and " Portmore." The ignis fat uus of "aid 
from Spain" was still in O'Neill's eyes. He was waiting — but 
striking betimes, parleying with royal commissioners, and 
corresponding with King Philip, when he was not engaging 
Bao-nal or Norreys • Red Hugh meanwhile echoing in Con- 
nacht every blow struck by O'Neill in Ulster. At length in 
the summer of 1 598, he seems to have thrown aside all reliance 
upon foreign aid, and to have organized his countrymen for a 
still more resolute stand than any they yet had made against 
the national enemy. 

"In the month of July, O Neill sent messengers to Phelim 



THE STOKY OF lEELAND. 263 

Mac Hugh, then chief of the O' Byrnes, that he might fall 
upon the Pale, as they were about to make employment in 
the north for the troops of Ormond, and at the same time he 
detached fifteen hundred men and sent them to assist his ally, 
O'More, who was then besieging Porteloise, a fort of the Eng- 
lish in Leix. Then he made a sudden stoop upon the castle 
of Portmore, which, says Mo ry son, ' was a great eye-sore to 
him lying upon the chiefe passage into his country,' hoping 
to carry it by assault. 

" Ormond now perceived that a powerful effort must be 
made by the English to hold their ground in the north, or 
Ulster might at once be abandoned to the Irish. Strong re- 
inforcements were sent from England, and O'Neill's spies soon 
brought him intelligence of large masses of troops moving 
northward, led by Marshal Sir Henry Bagnal, and composed 
of the choicest forces in the queen's service. Newry was 
their place of rendezvous, and early in August, Bagnal found 
himself at the head of the largest and best appointed army of 
veteran Englishmen that had ever fought in Ireland. He suc- 
ceeded in relieving Armagh, and dislodging O'Neill from his 
encampment at Mullaghbane, where the chief himself nar- 
rowly escaped bemg taken, and then prepared to advance 
with his whole army to the Blackwater, and raise the siege 
of Portmore. WiUiams and his men were by this time nearly 
famished with hunger; they had eaten all their horses, and 
had come to feeding on the herbs and grass that grew upon 
the walls of the fortress. And every morning they gazed 
anxiously over the southern hills, and strained their eyes to 
see the wavmg of a red-cross flag, or the glance of English 
spears in the rising sun. 

•' O'Neill hastily summoned O'Donnell and MacWilliam to 
his aid, and determmed to cross the marshal's path, and give 
him battle before he reached the Blackwater. His entire 
force on the day of battle, including the Scots and the troops 
of Connaught and Tyrconnell, consisted of four thousand five 
hundred foot and six hundred horse, and Bagnal's army 
amounted to an equal number of mfantry and five hundred 
veteran horsemen, sheathed in corslets and head pieces, to- 



264 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

gether with some field artillery, in which O'Neill was wholly 
wanting, 

" Hugh Roe O'Donnell had snuffed the coming battle from 
afar, and on the 9th of August joined O'Neill with the clans 
of Connaught and Tyrconnell. They drew up their main body 
about a mile from Portmore, on the way to Armagh, where 
the plain was narrowed to a pass, enclosed on one side by a 
thick wood, and on the other by a bog. To arrive at that 
plain from Armagh the enemy would have to penetrate through 
wooded hills, divided by winding and marshy hollows, in 
which flowed a sluggish and discolored stream from the bogs, 
and hence the pass was called Beal-an-atha-hiidhe, '■ the mouth 
of the yellow ford,' Fearfasa O'Clery, a learned poet of 
O'Donnell's, asked the name of that place, and when he heard 
it, remembered (and proclaimed aloud to the army) that St. 
Bercan had foretold a terrible battle to be fought at a yellow 
ford, and a glorious victory to be won by the ancient Irish. 

" Even so, Moran, son of Maoin ! and for thee, wisest poet, 
O'Clery, thou hast this day served thy country well, for to an 
Irish army, auguries of good were more needful than a com- 
missariat ; and those bards' songs, like the Dorian flute of 
Greece, breathed a passionate valor that no blare of English 
trumpets could ever kindle. 

" Bagnall's army rested that night in Armagh, and the Irish 
bivouacked in the woods, each warrior covered by his shaggy 
cloak, under the stars of a summer night, for to * an Irish rebel', 
says Edmund Spenser, 'the wood is his house against all 
weathers, and his mantle is his couch to sleep in.' But O'Neill, 
we may well believe, slept not that night away ; the morrow 
was to put to proof what valor and discipline was in that 
Irish army, which he had been so long organizing and training 
to meet this very hour. Before him lay a splendid army of 
tried English troops in full march for his ancient seat of Dun- 
gannon, and led on by his mortal enemy. And O'Neill would 
not have had that host weakened by the desertion of a single 
man, nor commanded — no, not for his white wand of chief- 
taincy — by any leader but this his dearest foe." 

To Mr. Mitchel, whose vivid narrative I have so far been 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 265 

quoting, we are indebted for the following stirring description 
of O'Neill's greatest battle — ever memorable Beal-an-atha- 
buie : — 

" The tenth morning of August rose bright and serene upon 
the towers of Armagh and the silver waters of Avonmore. 
Before day dawned the English army left the city in three di- 
visions, and at sunrise they were winding through the hills 
and woods behind the spot where now stands the httle church 
of Grange. 

" The sun was glancing on the corslets and spears of their 
glittering cavalry, their banners waved proudly, and their 
bugles rung clear in the morning air, when, suddenly, from 
the thickets on both sides of their path, a deadly volley of 
musketry swept through the foremost ranks. O'Neill had 
stationed here five hundred light armed troops to guard the 
defiles, and in the shelter of thick groves of fir trees they had 
silently waited for the enemy. Now they poured in their 
shot, volley after volley, and killed great numbers of the Eng- 
lish ; but the first division, led by Bagnal in person, after some 
hard fighting, carried the pass, dislodged the marksmen from 
their position, and drove them backwards into the plain. 
The centre division under Cosby and Wingfield, and the rear- 
guard led by Cuin and Billing, supported in flank by the cav- 
alry under Brooke, Montacute, and Flemmg, now pushed for- 
ward, speedily cleared the difficult country, and formed in 
the open ground in front of the Irish lines. ' It was not quite 
safe,' says an Irish chronicler (in admiration of Bagnal's dis- 
position of his forces) ' to attack the nest of griffins and den of 
lions in which were placed the soldiers of London.' Bagnal 
at the head of his first division, and aided by a body of cavalry, 
charged the Irish light-armed troops up to the very entrench- 
ments, in front of which O'Neill's foresight had prepared some 
pits, covered over with wattles and grass, and many of the 
English cavalry rushing impetuously forward, rolled headlong, 
both men and horses, into these trenches and perished. Still 
the marshal's chosen troops, with loud cheers and shouts of 
' St. George for merry England !' resolutely attacked the en- 
trenchment that stretched across the pass, battered them with 



266 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

cannon, and in one place succeeded, though with heavy loss, 
in forcing back their defenders. Then first the main body of 
O'Neill's troops was brought into action, and with bagpipes 
sounding a charge, they fell upon the English, shouting their 
fierce battle-cries, Lamh-dearg I and O'Donnell aboo ! O'Neill 
himself, at the head of a body of horse, pricked forward to 
seek out Bagnal amidst the throng of battle, but they never 
met: the marshal, who had done his devoir that day like a 
good soldier, was shot through the brain by some unknown 
marksman. The division he had led was forced back by the 
furious onslaught of the Irish, and put to utter rout : and, what 
added to their confusion, a cart of gunpowder exploded amidst 
the English ranks and blew many of their men to atoms. And 
now the cavalry of Tyrconnell and Tyrowen dashed into the 
plain and bore down the remnant of Brooke's and Flemming's 
horse ; the columns of Wingfield and Cosby reeled before 
their rushing charge — while in front, to the war-cry of 
Bataillah-aboo ' the swords and axes of the heavy armed gal- 
lowglasses were raging amongst the Saxon ranks. By this 
time the cannon were all taken ; the cries of * St. George' had 
failed, or turned into death-shrieks; and once more, England's 
royal standard sunk before the Red Hand of Tyrowen." 

Twelve thousand gold pieces, thirty-four standards, and all 
the artillery of the vanquished army were taken. Nearly 
three thousand dead were left by the English on the field. 
The splendid army of the Pale was, in fact, annihilated. 

Beal-an-atha-buie, or, as some of the English chroniclers 
call it, Blackwater, may be classed as one of the great battles 
of the Irish nation; perhaps the greatest fought in the course 
of the war against English invasion. Other victories as bril- 
liant and complete may be found recorded in our annals ; 
many defeats of English armies as utter and disastrous; but 
most of these were in a military point of view, not to be 
ranked for a moment with the " Yellow Ford." Very nearly 
all of them were defile surprises, conducted on the simplest 
principles of warfare common to struggles in mountainous 
country. But Beal-an-atha-buie was a deliberate engagement, 
a formidable pitched battle between the largest and the best 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 267 

armies which England and Ireland respectively were able to 
send forth, and was fought out on principles of military science 
in which both O'Neill and Bagnal were proficients. It was 
a fair stand-up fight between the picked troops and chosen 
generals of the two nations ; and it must be told of the van- 
quished on that day, that, though defeated, they were not dis- 
honored. The Irish annals and chants, one and all, do justice 
to the daring bravery and unflinching endurance displayed 
by Bagnal's army on the disastrous battle-field of Beal-an- 
atha-buie. 

As might be supposed, a victory so considerable as this has 
been sung by a hundred bards. More than one notable poem 
in the native Gaelic has celebrated its glory ; and quite a 
number of our modern bards have made it the theme of stir- 
ring lays. Of these latter, probably the best known is Dren- 
nan's ballad, from which 1 quote the opening and concluding 
verses : 

By O'Neill close beleaguer'd, the spirits might droop 
Of the Saxon three hundred shut up in their coop, 
Till Bagnal drew forth his Toledo, and swore 
On the sword of a soldier to succor Portmore. 

His veteran troops, in the foreign wars tried, 

Their features how bronz'd, and how haughty their stride, 

Step'd steadily on ; it was thrilling to see 

That thunder-cloud brooding o'er Beal-an-atha-Buidh ! 

The flash of their armor, inlaid with fine gold, 
Gleaming matchlocks and cannons that mutteringly roll'd, 
With the tramp and the clank of those stern cuirassiers, 
Dyed in blood of the Flemish and French cavaliers. 



Land of Owen aboo ! and the Irish rushed on : 
The foe fir'd but one volley — their gunners are gone. 
Before the bare bosoms the steel coats have fled, 
Or, despite casque or corslet, lie dying or dead. 

And brave Harry Bagnal, he fell while he fought, 
With many gay gallants ; they slept as men ought, 
Their faces to Heaven : there were others, alack ! 
By pikes overtaken, and taken aback. 



268 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

And the Irish got clothing, coin, colors, great store, 

Arms, forage, and provender — plunder go leor. 

They munch'd the white manchets, they champ'd the brown chine, 

Fuliluah for that day, how the natives did dine ! 

The chieftain looked on, when O'Shanagan rose, 
And cried; Hearken, O'Neill, I've a health to propose — 
To our Sassenach hosts, and all quaffed in huge glee, 
With Cead mile faille go ! Beal-an-atha-buidh ! 

The same subject has been the inspiration of, perhaps, the 
most beautiful poem in Mr. Aubrey de Vere's Lyrical Chron-. 
icle of Ireland :— 

THE WAR-SONG OF TYRCONNELL'S BARD AT THE BATTLE OF BLACKWATER. 

Glory to God, and to the Powers that fight 

For Freedom and the Right ! 
We have them then, the invaders ! there they stand 
Once more on Oriel's land ! 
They have pass'd the gorge stream cloven, 

And the mountain's purple bound ; 
Now the toils are round them woven. 
Now the nets are spread around ! 
Give them time : their steeds are blown ; 
Let them stand and round them stare, 
Breathing blasts of Irish air ; 
Our eagles know their own ! 

Thou rising sun, fair fall 

Thy greeting on Armagh's time-honored wall 

And on the willows hoar 

That fringe thy silver waters, Avonmore ! 

See ! on that hill of drifted sand 

The far-famed marshal holds command, 

Bagnal, their bravest :— to the right. 

That recreant, neither chief nor knight, 

"The Queen's O'Reilly," he that sold 

His country, clan, and church for gold ! 

"Saint George for England !" — recreant crew, 

What are the saints ye spurn to you ? 

They charge ; they pass yon grassy swell ; 

They reach our pit-falls hidden well : 

On ! — warriors native to the sod ! 

Be on them, in the power of God ! 

# * » » * 

Seest thou yon stream, whose tawny waters glide 

Through weeds and yellow marsh lingeringly and slowly ? 
Blest is that spot and holy ! 



THE STOEY OF IKELAND. 269 

There, ages past, Saint Bercan stood and cried, 
" This spot shall quell one day th' invader's pride !" 
He saw in mystic trance 

The blood-stain flush yon rill: 
On ! — hosts of God, advance ! 
Your country's fate fulfil ! 



Hark ! the thunder of their meeting ! 

Hand meets hand, and rough the greeting ! 

Hark ! the crash of shield and brand ; 

They mix, they mingle, band with band, 

Like two horn-commingling stags, 

Wrestling on the mountain crags, 

Intertwined, intertangled, 

Mangled forehead meeting mangled ! 

See ! the wavering darkness through 

I see the banner of Red Hugh ; 

Close beside is thine, O'Neill ! 

Now they stoop and now they reel, 

Rise once more and onward sail. 

Like two falcons on one gale ! 

O ye clansmen past me rushing. 

Like mountain torrents seaward gushing, 

Tell the chiefs that from this height 

Their chief of bards beholds the fight ; 

That on theirs he pours his spirit ; 

Marks their deeds and chaunts their merit ; 

While the Priesthood evermore. 

Like him that ruled God's host of yore, 

With arms outstretched that God implore ! 



Glory be to God on high ! 

That shout rang up into the sky ! 

The plain lies bare ; the smoke drifts by ; 

Again that cry : they fly ! they fly ! 

O'er them standards thirty-four 

Waved at morn ! they wave no more. 

Glory be to Him alone who holds the nations in His hand. 

And to them the heavenly guardians of our Church and native land ! 

Sing, ye priests, your deep Te Deum : bards, make answer loud and long, 

In your rapture flinging heavenward censers of triumphant song. 

Isle for centuries blind in bondage, lift once more thine ancient boast. 

From the cliffs of Innishowen southward on to Carbery's coast ! 

We have seen the right made perfect, seen the Hand that rules the spheres. 

Glance like lightning through the clouds, and backward roll the wrongful years. 



270 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

Glory fadeth, but this triumph is no barren mundane glory ; 

Rays of healing it shall scatter on the eyes that read our story : 

Upon nations bound and torpid as they waken it shall shine, 

As on Peter in his chains the angel shone, with light divine. 

From th' unheeding, from th' unholy it may hide, like truth, its ray ; 

But when Truth and Justice conquer, on their crowns its beam shall play : 

O'er the ken of troubled tyrants it shall trail a meteor's glare ; 

For the blameless it shall glitter as the star of morning fair ; 

Whensoever Erin triumphs, then its dawn it shall renew ; 

Then O'Neill shall be remember'd, and Tirconnell's chief. Red Hugh ! 

The fame of this great victory filled the land. Not in Ire- 
land alone did it create a sensation. The English historians 
tell us that for months nothing was talked of at the court or 
elsewhere throughout England, but O'Neill and the great 
battle on the Blackwater, which had resulted so disastrously 
for " her Highness." Moryson himself informs us that "the 
generall voyce was of Tyrone amongst the English after 
the defeat of Blackwater, as of Hannibal amongst the Romans 
after the defeat at Cannas." The event got noised abroad, 
too, and in all the courts of Europe Hugh of Tyrone became 
celebrated as a military commander and as a patriot leader. 




THE STORY OF IRELAND. 271 




XLIII.— HOW HUGH FORMED A GREAT NATIONAL CONFEDERACY 
AND BUILT UP A NATION ONCE MORE ON IRISH SOIL. 

^/|F Ulster was Ireland, Ireland now was free. But all 
)| that has been narrated so far, has affected only half the 
■*■ ^ island. The south all this time lay in the heavy trance 
of helplessness, suflfering and despair, that had super- 
vened upon the desolating Desmond war. At best the south 
was very unlikely to second with equal zeal, energy, and suc- 
cess, such an effort as the north had made. Munster was 
almost exclusively possessed by Anglo-Irish lords, or Irish chiefs 
in the power of, and submissive to, the English. Ulster was 
the stronghold of the native cause ; and what was possible 
there might be, and in truth was, very far from feasible in the 
" colonized " southern province. Nevertheless, so irresistible 
was the inspiration of Hugh's victories in the north, that even 
the occupied, conquered, broken, divided, and desolated south 
began to take heart and look upward. Messengers were des- 
patched to Hugh entreating him to send some duly author- 
ized lieutenants to raise the standard of Church and Country 
in Munster, and take charge of the cause there. He complied 
by detaching Richard Tyrrell, of Fertullah, and Owen, son 
of Ruari O'Moore, at the head of a chosen band, to unfurl 
the national flag in the southern provinces. They were en- 
thusiastically received. The Catholic Anglo-Norman lords 
and the native chiefs entered into the movement, and rose to 
arms on all sides. The newly planted *' settlers," or " under- 
takers " as they were styled — (English adventurers amongst 
whom had been parcelled out the lands of several southern 
Catholic families, lawlessly seized on the ending of the Desmond 
rebellion) — fled pell mell, abandoning the stolen castles and 
lands to their rightful owners, and only too happy to escape 
with life.* The Lord President had to draw in everv outpost. 

* Amongst them was Spenser, a gentle poet and rapacious freebooter. His poesy 
was sweet, and full of charms, quaint, simple, and eloquent. His prose politics were 



272 THE STORY OP IRELAND 

and abandon all Munster, except the garrison towns of Cork 
and Kilmallock, within which, cooped up like prisoners, he 
and his diminished troops were glad to find even momentary 
shelter. By the beginning of 1599, "no English force was 
able to keep the field throughout all Ireland." O'Neill's au- 
thority was paramount — was loyally recognized and obeyed 
everywhere outside two or three garrison towns. He exer- 
cised the prerogatives of royalty ; issued commissions, con- 
ferred offices, honors, and titles ; removed or deposed lords 
and chiefs actively or passively disloyal to the national author- 
ity, and appointed others in their stead. And all was done so 
wisely, so impartially, so patriotically — with such scrupulous 
and fixed regard for the one great object, and no other — 
namely, the common cause of national independence and free- 
dom — that even men chronicall}' disposed to suspect family or 
clan selfishness in every act, gave in their full confidence to 
him as to a leader who had completely sunk the clan chief in 
the national leader. In fine, since the days of Brian the 
First, no native sovereign of equal capacity — singularly quali- 
fied as a soldier and as a statesman — had been known in Ire- 
land. " He omitted no means of strengthening the league. 
He renewed his intercourse with Spain ; planted permanent 
bodies of troops on the Foyle, Erne, and Blackwater ; engaged 
the services of some additional Scots from the Western Isles, 
improved the discipline of his own troops, and on every side 
made preparations to renew the conflict with his powerful 
enemy. For he well knew that Elizabeth was not the monarch 
to quit her deadly gripe of this fair island without a more ter- 
rible struggle than had yet been endured." * 

That struggle was soon inaugurated. England at that time 
one of the strongest nations in Europe, and a match for the 
best among them by land and sea, ruled over by one of the 
ablest, the boldest, and the most crafty sovereigns that had 
ever sat upon her throne, and served by statesmen, soldiers, 



brutal, venal, and cowardly. He wooed the muses very blandly, living in a stolen 
home, and philosophically counselled the extirpation of the Irish owners of the land, 
for the greater security of himself and fellow adventurers. 

* Mitchel. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 273 

philosophers, and writers, whose names are famous in history 
— was now about to put forth all her power in a combined 
naval and military armament against the almost reconstituted, 
but as yet all too fragile Irish nation. Such an effort, under 
all the circumstances, could scarcely result otherwise than as 
it eventually did ; for there are, after all, odds against which 
no human effort can avail and for which no human valor can 
compensate. It was England's good fortune on this occasion, 
as on others previously and subsequently, that the Irish nation 
challenged her when she was at peace with all the world— 
when her hands were free and her resources undivided. 
Equally fortunate was she at all times, on the other hand, in the 
complete tranquillity of the Irish when desperate emergencies 
put heron her own defence, and left her no resources to spare 
for a campaign in Ireland, had she been challenged then. 
What we have to contemplate in the closing scenes of O'Neill's 
glorious career is the heroism of Thermopylas, not the success 
of Salamis or Platasa. 

Elizabeth's favorite, Essex, was despatched to Ireland with 
twenty tJionsand men at his back ; an army not only the largest 
England had put into the field for centuries, but in equip- 
ment, in drill, and in armament, the most complete ever assem- 
bled under her standard. Against this the Irish nowhere had 
ten thousand men concentrated in a regular army or movable 
corps. In equipment and in armament they were sadly 
deficient, while of sieging material they were altogether des- 
titute. Nevertheless, we are told " O'Neill and his confeder- 
ates were not dismayed by the arrival of this great army and 
its magnificent leader." And had the question between the 
two nations depended solely upon such issues as armies settle, 
and superior skill and prowess control, neither O'Neill nor his 
confederates would have erred in the strong faith, the high 
hope, the exultant self-reliance that now animated them. The 
campaign of 1599 — the disastrous failure of the courtly Essex 
and his magnificent army — must be told in a few lines. O'Neill 
completely out-generalled and over-awed or over-reached 
the haughty deputy. In more than one fatal engagement his 
splendid force was routed by the Irish, until, notwithstanding 



274 THE STOKY OF lEELAND. 

aconstantstream of reinforcements from England, it had wasted 
away, and was no longer formidable in O'Neill's eyes. In vain 
the queen wrote letter after letter endeavoring to sting her 
quondam favorite into "something notable ;" that is a victor}^ 
over O'Neill. Nothing could induce Essex to face the famous 
hero of Clontibret and the Yellow Ford, unless, indeed, in 
peaceful parley. At length having been taunted into a move- 
ment northward, he proceeded thither reluctantly and slowly. 
" On the high ground north of the Lagan, he found the host of 
O'Neill encamped, and received a courteous message from 
their leader, soliciting a personal interview. At an appointed 
hour the two commanders rode down to the opposite banks 
of the river, wholly unattended, the advanced guards of each 
looking curiously on from the uplands." * O'Neill, ever the 
flower of courtesy, spurred his horse into the stream up to 
the saddlegirths. " First they had a private conference, in 
which Lord Essex, won by the chivalrous bearing and kindly 
address of the chief, became, say the English historians, too 
confidential with an enemy of his sovereign, spoke without re- 
serve of his daring hopes and most private thoughts of am- 
bition, until O'Neill had sufficiently read his secret soul, 
fathomed his poor capacity, and understood the full meanness 
of his shallow treason. Then Cormac O'Neill and five other 
Irish leaders were summoned on the one side, on the other 
Lord Southampton and an equal number of English officers, 
and a solemn parley was opened in due form." f O'Neill of- 
fered terms : " first, complete liberty of conscience ; second, 
indemnity for his allies in all the four provinces ; third, the prin- 
cipal officers of state, the judges, and one-half the army to be 
henceforth Irish by birth." Essex considered these very far 
from extravagant demands from a man now virtually master 
in the island. He declared as much to O'Neill, and concluded 
a truce pending reply from London. Elizabeth saw in fury 
how completely O'Neill had dominated her favorite. She 
wrote him a frantic letter full of scornful taunt and upbraiding. 
Essex flung up all his duties in Ireland without leave, and 

♦ M'Gee. t MitcheL 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 275 

hurried to London, to bring into requisition the personal in- 
fluences he had undoubtedly possessed at one time with the 
queen. But he found her unapproachable. She stamped and 
swore at him, and ordered him to the tower, where the un- 
fortunate earl paid, with his head upon the block, the forfeit 
for not having grappled successfully with the " Red Hand of 
Ulster." 

The year 1600 was employed by O'Neill in a general circuit 
of the kmgdom, for the more complete establishment of the 
national league and the better organization of the national re- 
sources. " He marched through the centre of the island at 
the head of his troops to the south," says his biographer, "a 
kind of royal progress, which he thought fit to call a pilgrim- 
age to Holy Cross. He held princely state there, concerted 
measures with the southern lords, and distributed a manifesto 
announcing himself as the accredited Defender of the Faith." 
" In the beginning of March," says another authority, " the 
Catholic army halted at Inniscarra, upon the river Lee, about 
five miles west of Cork. Here O'Neill remained three weeks 
in camp consolidating the Catholic party in South Munster. 
During that time he was visited by the chiefs of the ancient 
Eugenian clans — O'Donohoe, O'Donovan, and O'Mahony. 
Thither also came two of the most remarkable men of the 
southern province : Florence McCarthy, lord of Carberry, and 
Donald O'Sullivan, lord of Bearhaven. McCarthy * like Saul,, 
higher by the head and shoulders than any of his house,' had 
brain in proportion to his brawn ; O'Sullivan, as was after- 
wards shown, was possessed of military virtues of a high 
order. Florence was inaugurated with O'Neill's sanction as 
McCarthy More ; and although the rival house of Muskerry 
fiercely resisted his claim to superiority at first, a wiser choice 
could not have been made had the times tended to confirm it. 

" While at Inniscarra, O'Neill lost in single combat one of 
his most accomplished officers, the chief of Fermanagh. Ma- 
guire, accompanied only by a priest and two horsemen, was 
making observations nearer to the city than the camp, when 
Sir Warham St. Leger, marshal of Munster, issued out of 
Cork with a company of soldiers, probably on a similar mission. 



276 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

Both were in advance of their attendants when they came un- 
expectedly face to face. Both were famous as horsemen and 
for the use of their weapons, and neither would retrace 
his steps. The Irish chief, poising his spear, dashed forward 
against his opponent, but received a pistol shot which proved 
mortal the same day. He, however, had strength enough 
left to drive his spear through the neck of- SL Leger, and to 
effect his escape from the English cavalry. St. Leger was car- 
ried back to Cork where he expired. Maguire, on reaching 
the camp, had barely time left to make his last confession 
when he breathed his last. This untoward event, the necessity 
of preventing possible dissensions in Fermanagh, and still 
more the menacing movements of the new deputy, lately 
sworn in at Dublin, obliged O'Neill to return home earlier 
than he intended. Soon after reaching Dungannon he had 
the gratification of receiving a most gracious letter from Pope 
Clement the Eighth, together with a crown of phoenix feathers 
symbolical of the consideration with which he was regarded 
by the Sovereign Pontiff."* 



"XLIV. — HOW THE RECONSTRUCTED IRISH NATION WAS OVER- 
BORNE. HOW THE TWO HUGHS " FOUGHT BACK TO BACK " 
AGAINST THEIR OVERWHELMING FOES. HOW THE " SPANISH 
aid" RUINED THE IRISH CAUSE. THE DISASTROUS BATTLE 
OF KINSALE. 

H ER E no w appear before us two remarkable men whose 
names are prominently identified with this memorable 
epoch in Irish history — Mountjoy, the new lord depu- 
ty; and Carew, the new lord president of Munster. 
In the hour in which these men were appointed to the conduct 
of affairs in Ireland, the Irish cause was lost. Immense re- 
sources were placed at their disposal, new levies and arma- 
ments were ordered ; and again all the might of England by 

'M'Gee. 




THE STORY OF IRELAND. 277 

land and sea was to be put forth against Ireland. But Mount- 
joy and Carew alone were worth all the levies. They were 
men of indomitable energy, masters of subtlety, craft, and cun- 
ning, utterly unscrupulous as to the employment of means 
to an end ; cold-blooded, callous, cruel, and brutal. Norreys 
and Bagnal were soldiers — able generals, illustrious in the 
field. Essex was a lordly courtier, vain and pomp-loving. Of 
these men — soldier and courtier — the Irish annals speak as of 
fair foes. But of Mountjoy and Carew a different memory is 
kept in Ireland. They did their work by the wile of the ser- 
pent, not by the skill of the soldier. Where the brave and 
manly Norreys tried the sword, they tried snares, treachery, 
and deceit, gold, flattery, promises, temptation, and seduction 
in every shape. To_split up the confederation of chiefs was an 
end towards which they steadily labored by means the most 
subtle and crafty that human ingenuity could devise. Let- 
ters, for instance, were forged purporting to have been writ- 
ten secretly to the lord deputy by the Earl of Desmond, offer- 
ing to betray one of his fellow confederates, O'Connor. These 
forgeries were " disclosed," as it were, to O'Connor, with an 
offer that he should " forestal " the earl, by siezing and giving 
up the latter to the government, for which, moreover, he 
was to have a thousand pounds in hand, besides other con- 
siderations promised. The plot succeeded. O'Connor be- 
trayed the earl and handed him over a prisoner to the 
lord deputy, and of course going over himself as an ally also. 
This rent worked the dismemberment of the league in the 
south. Worse defections followed soon after ; defections un- 
accountable, and, indeed, irretievable. Art O'Neill and Nial 
Garv O'Donnell, under the operation of mysterious influences, 
went over to the English, and in all the subsequent events, 
were more active and effective than any other commanders on 
the queen's side ! Nial Garv alone was worth a host. He was 
one of the ablest generals in the Irish camp. His treason fell 
upon the national leaders like a thunderbolt. This was the 
sort of" campaigning " on which Mountjoy relied most. Time 
and money were freely devoted to it, and not m vain. After 
the national confederation had been sufficiently split up and 



278 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

weakened in this way — and when, north, and south, the de- 
tecting chiefs were able of themselves to afford stiff employ- 
ment for the national forces, the lord deputy took the Held- 
In the struggle that now ensued O'Neill and O'Donnell 
presented one of those spectacles which, according to the lan- 
guage of the heathen classics, move gods and men to sympathy 
and admiration! Hearts less brave might despair; but tliey, 
like Leonidas and the immortal Three Hundred, would fight 
out the battle of country while life remained. The English 
now had in any one province a force superior to the entire 
strength of the national army. The eventful campaign of 
1601, we are told, was fought out in almost every part of the 
kingdom. To hold the coast lines on the north — where Dow- 
cra had landed (at Derry) four thousand foot and four hun- 
dred horse — was the task of O'Donnell ; while to defend the 
southern Ulster frontier was the peculiar charge of O'Neill. 
" They thus," says the historian, "fought as it were back to 
back against the opposite lines of attack." Through all the 
spring and summer months that fight went on. From hill to 
valley, from pass to plain, all over the island, it was one roll 
of cannon and musketry, one ceaseless and universal engage- 
ment ; the smoke of battle never lifted off the scene. The two 
Hughs were all but ubiquitous; confronting and defeating an 
attack to-day at one point; falling upon the foes next day at 
another far distant from the scene of the last encounter ! Be- 
tween the two chiefs the most touching confidence and devot- 
ed affection subsisted. Let the roar of battle crash how it 
mif ht on the northern horizon, O'Neill relied that all was 
well, for O'Donnell was at his post. No matter what myriads 
of foes were massing in the south, it was enough for O'Don- 
nell to know that O'Neill was there. *' Back to back," in- 
deed, as many a brave battle against desperate odds has been 
fought, they maintained the unequal combat, giving blow for 
blow, and so far holding their ground right nobly. By Sep- 
tember, except in Munster, comparatively little had been 
gained by the English beyond the successful planting of some 
further garrisons ; but the Irish were considerably exhausted, 
and sorely needed rest and recruitment. At this juncture 



THE STORY OF IRELAND, 279 

came the exciting news that — at length ! — a powerful auxihary 
force from Spain had landed at Kinsale. The Anglo-Irish 
privy council were startled by the news while assembled in 
deliberation at Kilkenny, Instantly they ordered a concen- 
tration of all their available forces in the south, and resolved 
upon a winter campaign. They acted with a vigor and deter- 
mination which plainly showed their conviction that on the 
quick crushing of the Spanish force hung the fate of their 
cause in Ireland. A powerful fleet was sent round the coast, 
and soon blockaded Kinsale ; while on the land side it was in- 
vested by a force of some fifteen thousand men. 

This Spanish expedition, meant to aid, effected the ruin of 
the Irish cause. It consisted of little more than three thou- 
sand men, with a good supply of stores, arms, and ammunition. 
In all his letters to Spain, O'Neill is said to have strongly 
urged that if a force under five thousand men came, it should 
land in Ulster, where it would be morally and materially worth 
ten thousand landed elsewhere ; but that if Munster was to be 
the point of debarkation, anything less than eight or ten thou- 
sand men would be useless. The meaning of this is easily 
discerned. The south was the strong ground of the English, 
as the north was of the Irish side. A force landed in Munster 
should be able of itself to cope with the strong opposition 
which it was sure to encounter. These facts were not altogether 
lost sight of in Spain. The expedition as fitted out consisted 
of six thousand men ; but various mishaps and disappointments 
reduced it to half the number by the time it landed at Kin- 
sale. Worse than all, the wrong man commanded it ; Don 
Juan D'Aquilla, a good soldier, but utterly unsuited for an 
enterprise like this. He was proud, sour-tempered, hasty, 
and irascible. He had heard nothing of the defections and 
disasters in the south. The seizure of Desmond and the en- 
snaring of Florence McCarthy — the latter the most influential 
and powerful of the southern nobles and chiefs — had paralyz- 
ed everything there ; and Don Juan, instead of finding himself 
in the midst of friends in arms, found himself surrounded by 
foes on land and sea. He gave way to his natural ill-temper 
in reproaches and complaints ; and in letters to O'Neill, bit- 



280 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

terly demanded whether he and the other confederates meant 
to hasten to his relief. For O'Neill and O'Donnell, with their 
exhausted and weakened troops to abandon the north and un- 
dertake a winter march southward, was plain destruction. 
At least it staked everything on the single issue of success or 
defeat before Kinsale , and to prevent defeat and to insure 
success there, much greater organization for cooperation and 
concert, and much more careful preparation, were needed 
than was possible now, hurried southward in this way by 
D'Aquilla. Nevertheless, there was nothing else for it. 
O'Neill clearly discerned that the crafty and politic Carew 
had been insidiously working on the Spanish commander, to 
disgust him with the enterprise, and induce him to sail home- 
ward on liberal terms. And it was so. Don Juan, it is said, 
agreed, or intimated that if, within a given time, an Irish army 
did not appear to his relief, he would treat with Carew for 
terms. If it was, therefore, probable disaster for O'Neill to 
proceed to the south, it was certain ruin for him to refuse; so 
with heavy hearts the northern chieftains set out on their 
winter march for Munster, at the head of their thinned and 
wasted troops. " O'Donnell, with his habitual ardor, was first 
on the way. He was joined by Felim O'Doherty, MacSwi- 
ney-na-Tuath, O' Boyle, O'Rorke, the brother of O'Connor 
Sligo, the O'Connor Roe, Mac Dermott, O'Kelly, and others; 
mustering in all about two thousand five hundred men." 
O'Neill, with MacDonnell of Antrim, MacGennis of Down, 
MacMahon of Monaghan, and others of his suffragans, march- 
ed southward at the head of between three and four thousand 
men. Holy-Cross was the point where both their forces ap- 
pointed to effect their junction. O'Donnell was first at the 
rendezvous. A desperate effort on the part of Carew to in- 
tercept and overwhelm him before O'Neill could come up, 
was defeated only by a sudden night-march of nearly forty 
miles by Red Hugh. O'Neill reached Belgooley, within sight 
of Kinsale, on the 21st of December. 

In Munster, in the face of all odds — amidst the wreck of the 
national confederacy, and in the presence of an overwhelming 
army of occupation — a few chiefs there were> undismayed and 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 281. 

unfaltering, who rallied faithfully at the call of duty. Fore- 
most amongst these was Donal O'SuUivan, Lord of Beare, a 
man in whose fidelity, intrepidity, and military ability, O'Neill 
appears to have reposed unbounded confidence. In all the 
south, the historian tells us, " only O'SuUivan Beare, O'Dris- 
coll, and O'Connor Kerry declared openly for the national 
cause" in this momentous crisis. Some of the missing ships 
of the Spanish expedition reached Castlehaven in November, 
just as O'Donnell, who had made a detour westward, reached 
that place. Some of this Spanish contingent were detailed 
as garrisons for the forts of Dunboy, Baltimore, and Castle- 
haven, commanding three of the best havens m Munster, The 
rest joined O'Donnell's division, and which soon sat down be- 
fore Kinsale. 

When O'Neill came up, his master-mind at once scanned 
the whole position, and quickly discerned the true policy ta 
be pursued. The English force was utterly failing in com- 
missariat arrangements ; and disease as well as hunger was 
committing rapid havoc in the besiegers' camp. O'Neill ac- 
cordingly resolved to besiege the besiegers ; to increase their 
difficulties in obtaining provision or provender, and to cut up- 
their lines of communication. These tactics manifestly offered 
every advantage to the Irish and allied forces, and were certain 
to work the destruction of Carew's army. But the testy Don 
Juan could not brook this slow and cautious mode of proce- 
dure. " The Spaniards only felt their own inconveniences ; 
they were cut off from escape by sea by a powerful English 
fleet; and," continues the historian, " Carew was already 
practising indirectly on their commander his 'wit and cunning' 
in the fabrication of rumors and the forging of letters. Don 
Juan wrote urgent appeals to the northern chiefs to attack 
the English lines without another day's delay ; and a council 
of war in the Irish camp, on the third day after their arrival 
at Belgooley, decided that the attack should be made on the 
morrow." At this council, so strongly and vehemently was 
O'Neill opposed to the mad and foolish policy of risking an- 
engagement, which, nevertheless, O'Donnell, ever impetuous, 
as violently supported, that for the first time the two friend'; 



282 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

were angrily at issue, and some writers even allege that on 
this occasion question was raised between them as to who 
should assume command-in-chief on the morrow. However 
this may have been, it is certain that once the vote of the 
council was taken, and the decision found to be against him, 
O'Neill loyally acquiesced m it, and prepared to do his duty. 

" On the night of the 2nd January (new style) — 24lh Dec- 
ember old style, in use among the English — the Irish army 
left their camp m three divisions ; the vanguard led by Tyrrell, 
the centre by O Neill, and the rear by O'Donnell. The night 
was stormy and dark, with continuous peals and flashes of 
thunder and lightning. The guides lost their way, and the 
march, which even by the most circuitous route ought not to 
have exceeded four or five miles, was protracted through the 
whole night. At dawn of day, O'Neill, with whom were 
O'SuUivan and O'Campo, came in sight of the English lines, 
and to his infinite surprise found the men under arms, the 
cavalry in troops posted m advance of their quarters. O'Don- 
nell's divison was still to come up, and the veteran earl now 
found himself in the same dilemma into which Bagnal had fall- 
en at the Yellow Ford. His embarrassment was perceived 
from the English camp ; the cavalry were at once ordered to 
advance. For an hour O'Neill maintained his ground alone ; 
at the end of that time he was forced to retire. Of O'Campo's 
300 Spaniards, 40 survivors were with their gallant leader 
taken prisoners ; O'Donnell at length arrived and drove back 
a wing of the English cavalry ; Tyrrell's horsemen also held 
their ground tenaciously. But the route of the centre proved 
irremediable. Fully 1,200 of the Irish were left dead on the 
field, and every prisoner taken was instantly executed. On 
the English side fell Sir Richard Graeme : Captains Danvers 
and Godolphin, with several others, were wounded ; their total 
loss they stated at two hundred, and the Anglo-Irish, of whom 
they seldom made count in their reports, must have lost in 
proportion. The earls of Thomond and Clanricarde were 
actively engaged with their followers, and their loss could 
hardly have been less than that of the English regulars. 

" On the night following their defeat, the Irish leaders held 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 283 

council together at Innishannon, on the river Bandon, where 
it was agreed that O'Donnell should instantly take shipping for 
Spain to lay the true state of the contest before Philip the Third ; 
that O'SuUivan should endeavor to hold his castle of Dunboy, 
as commanding a most important harbor ; that Rory O'Don- 
nell, second brother of Hugh Roe, should act as chieftain of 
Tyrconnell, and that O'Neill should return into Ulster to 
make the best defence in his power. The loss in men was 
not irreparable ; the loss in arms, colors, and reputation, was 
more painful to bear, and far more difficult to retrieve." * 



XLV.— " THE LAST LORD OF BEARA." HOW DONAL OF DUN- 
BOY WAS ASSIGNED A PERILOUS PROMINENCE, AND NOBLY 
UNDERTOOK ITS DUTIES. HOW DON JUAN'S IMBECILITY 
OR TREASON RUINED THE IRISH CAUSE. 

^Confessedly for none of the defeated chiefs did the 
day's disaster at Kinsale involve such consequences 
as it presaged for the three southern leaders— O'SuUi- 
van, O'DriscoU, and O'Connor Kerry. The northern 
chieftains returning homeward, retired upon and within the 
strong lines of what we may call the vast entrenched camp 
of the'^native cause. But the three southerns— who alone of 
all their Munster compeers had dared to take the field against 
the English side in the recent crisis— were left isolated in a 
distant extremity of the island, the most remote from native 
support or cooperation, left at the mercy of Carew, now mas- 
ter of Munster, and leader of a powerful army flushed with 
victory. The northerns might have some chance, standing 
together and with a considerable district almost entirely in 
their hands, of holding out, or exacting good terms as they 
had done often before. But for the doomed southern chiefs, 
if aid from Spain came not soon, there was literally no pros- 
pect but the swift and immediate crash of Carew's vengeance; 



* M'Gee. 



284: THE STORY OF lEELAND. 

no hope save what the strong ramparts of Dunboy and the 
stout heart of its chieftain might encourage ! 

O'Neill, as I have already remarked, had a high opinion of 
O'SuUivan — of his devotedness to the national cause — of his 
prudence, skill, foresight, and courage. And truly the char- 
acter of the " last lord of Beara " as writ upon the page of his- 
tory — as depicted by contemporary writers, as revealed to us 
in his correspondence, and as displayed in his career and 
actions from the hour when, at the call of duty, with nothing 
to gain and all to peril, he committed himself to the national 
struggle — is one to command respect, sympathy, and admir- 
ation. In extent of territorial sway and in -'following" he 
was exceeded by many of the southern chiefs, but his personal 
character seems to have secured for him by common assent 
the position amongst them left vacant by the imprisonment of 
Florence Mac QdiXXk^y , facile princeps among the Irish of Mun- 
ster, now fast held in London tower. In manner, temperament, 
and disposition, O'SuUivan was singularly unlike most of the 
impulsive ardent Irish of his time. He was of deep, quiet, 
calm demeanor ; grave and thoughtful in his manner, yet 
notably firm and inflexible in all that touched his personal honor, 
his duty towards his people,* or his loyalty to religion or 
country. His family had flung themselves into the struggle 
of James Geraldine, and suffered the penalties that followed 
thereupon. Early in Elizabeth's reign, Eoghan, or Eugene, 
styled by the English Sir Owen O'SuUivan, contrived to 
possess himself of the chieftaincy and territory of Beara, on 
the death of his brother Donal, father of the hero of Dunbo}'. 
Eugene accepted an English title, sat in Lord Deputy Perrot's 
parliament of 1585, in the records of which we find his name 



* Nothing strikes the reader of Donal's correspondence with king Philip and the 
Spanish ministers, more forcibly than the constant solicitude, the deep feeling and 
affectionate attachment he exhibits towards his " poor people," as he always calls 
them. Amidst the wreck of all his hopes, the loss of worldly wealth and possessions, 
home, country, friends, his chief concern is for his " poor people '' abandoned to the 
persecution of the merciless English foe. In all his letters it is the same. No mur- 
mur, no repining for himself, but constant solicitude about Ireland, and constant 
sorrow for his poor people, left " like sheep without a shepherd when the storm shuts 
out the sky. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 285 

duly registered, and took out a" patent" in his own name for 
the tribe land. His nephew, young Donal — Donal Mac Donal 
O'SuUivan, as he was called — vehemently disputed the validity 
of Sir Owen's title to the lands, and after a lengthy law-suit, a 
letter of partition was issued under the great seal in January. 
1593, according to which Donal was to have the lordship, 
castles, and dependencies of Beara, while Sir Owen was to 
possess those eastward and northward of the penmsula. It is 
highly probable that by this decision the Pale authorities 
hoped to enthral Donal without losing Sir Owen, to make both 
branches of the family, as it were, compete in loyalty to the 
English power, and in any event, by putting enmity between 
them, cause them to split up and weaken their own influence. 
In this latter calculation they were not dissappointed, as the 
sequel shows ; but their speculations or expectations about 
Donal were all astray. He was indeed averse to hopeless and 
prospectless struggles against the power of England, and on 
attammg to the chieftaincy, directed his attention mainly to 
the internal regulation of his territory, and the bettering of 
the condition of his people in every respect, not by forays on 
neighboring clans, but by the peaceful influences of industry. 
But Donal, grave and placid of exterior, truly patriotic of 
heart, watched attentively the rise and progress of O'Neill's 
great movement in the north. For a time he believed it to be 
merely a quarrel between the queen's protege and his royal 
patroness, sure to be eventually adjusted ; and accordingly up 
to a recent period he displayed no sympathy with either side 
in the conflict. But when that conflict developed itself into a 
really national struggle, O'Sullivan never wavered for a mo- 
ment in deciding what his attitude should be ; and that attitude, 
once taken, was never abandoned, never varied, never com- 
promised by act or word or wish, through all that followed of 
sacrifice and suffering and loss. O'Neill, who was a keen dis- 
cerner of character, read O'Sullivan correctly when he esti- 
mated ali the more highly his accession, because it was that of 
a man who acted not from hot impulse or selfish calculation, 
but from full deliberation and a pure sense of duty. In fine, 
it was not lightly the Irish council at Innishannon selected the 



286 THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 

lord ot Dunboy for such honorable but perilous prominence 
as to name him one of the three men to whom was committed, 
in the darkest crisis of their country, the future conduct of the 
national cause.* 

We may imagine the memorable scene of the morn suc- 
ceeding that night of sleepless consultation at Innishannon 
over " hapless Erinn's fate" — the parting of the chiefs ! Wildly 
they embraced each other, and like clutch of iron was the fare- 
well grasp of hand in hand, as each one turned away on the path 
of his allotted task ! O'Neill marched northward, where we 
shall trace his movements subsequently. O'Donnell took ship- 
ping for Spain, and O'SuUivanat the head of his faithful clans- 
men marched westward for Bantry and Bearhaven. Had 
Don Juan D'Aquilla been a true and steadfast man — had he 
been at all worthy and fit to command or conduct such an 
enterprise — had he been at all capable of appreciating its 
peculiar exigencies and duties — the defeat at Kinsale, heavy 
and full of disaster as it was, might soon have been retrieved, 
and the whole aspect to affairs reversed. Had he but held his 
ground (as not unreasonably he might have been expected to 
do, with three thousand men within a fortified and well stored 
town) until the arrival of the further reinforcements which 
he must have known his royal master was sending, or would 
quickly send, and thus cooperated in the scheme of operations 
planned by the Irish chiefs at Innishannon, nothing that had 
so far happened could be counted of such great moment as 
to warrant abandonment of the expedition. But D'Aquilla's 
conduct was miserably inexplicable. He could not act more 
despairingly if his last cartridge had been fired, if his last 
gunner had perished, if his "last horse had been eaten," or if 
assured that king Philip had utterly abandoned him. After 
a few sorties, easily repulsed, he offered to capitulate. Carew. 
who hereby saw that Don Juan was a fool, was, of course, onlv 



* "These high Irishmen, namely, O'Neill and O'Donnell, ordered that the chief 
command and leadership of these (the Munster forces) should be given to O'SuUivan 
Beare, i.e., Donal, the son of Donal the son of Dermot ; for he was at this time the 
best commander among their allies in Munster for wisdom and valour " —Annals of 
the Four Af asters. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 287 

too happy to grant him any terms that would ensure the de- 
parture of the Spanish aids. By conceding conditions highly 
flattering to D'Aquilla's personal vanity, the lord president 
induced that outwitted commander not only to draw off to 
Spain the entire force of the expedition, but to undertake to yield 
up to the Enghsh all the castles and fortresses of the Irish 
chiefs in which Spanish garrisons had been placed, and to 
order back to Spain any further troops that might arrive be- 
fore his departure. This imbecility or treason ruined the Irish 
cause in the South, and ruining it there at such a juncture, 
ruined it everywhere. Such a capitulation was utter and 
swift destruction to the southern leaders. It " took the ground 
from under their feet." It reft them of bases of operations, 
and flung them as mere fugitives unsheltered and unprovision- 
ed into the field, the forest, the morass, or the mountain, to be 
hunted and harried, cut off in detail, and pitilessly put to the 
sword by Care w's numerous, powerful, and well-appointed field 
corps of scouring parties. 

Don Juan's capitulation was signed nth January, 1602 
(N. S.). Seven days afterwards the lord deputy and the lord 
president drew off to Cork. *' The day following the captains 
received directions to repair to sundry towns in Munster ap- 
pointed for their garrisons ; and the same day Captain Roger 
Harvie and Captain George Flower were despatched with 
certain companies to go by sea to receive the castles of Cas- 
tlehaven, Donnashed, and Donnelong at Baltimore, and Dun- 
boy at Bearhaven." On the 12th February, the Spanish officer 
in command at Castlehaven gave up the castle to Harvie. 
On the 2ist he proceeded to Baltimore, the two castles of 
which the Spanish officers therein gave up in like manner ; 
and in a few weeks all the coast district castles of the south- 
west, those of the Beara promontory alone excepted, were in 
the hands of the Enghsh. A month later (i6th March) Don 
Juan sailed for Spain, most of his forces having been shipped 
thither previously.* 

* On his return to Spain he was degraded from his rank for his too great intimacy 
with Carew, and confined a prisoner in his own house. He is said to have died of a 
broken heart occasioned by these indignities.'' — M'Gee. 



288 THE STOKY OF IKELAND. 

O'Sullivan heard wilh dismay and indignation of Don Juan's 
audacious undertaking to deliver up to his " cruel, cursed, 
misbelieving enemies," his castle of Dunboy, the key of his 
inheritance.* With speed, increased by this evil news, he 
pushed rapidly homeward, and in due time he appeared with 
the remnant of his little force f before the walls of the castle 
demanding admittance. The Spaniards refused ; they had 
heard of D'Aquilla's terms of capitulation, they regretted them 
but felt constrained to abide by them. Donal, however, know- 
ing a portion of the outworks of the place which afforded 
some facilities for his purpose, availed himself of a dark and 
stormy night to afilect an entrance, mining his way through 
the outer wall, and surprising and overpowering the Span- 
iards. He then addressed them feelingly on the conduct of 
D'Aquilla and the present posture of affairs, stating his reso- 
lution to hold the castle till King Philip would send fresh aid, 
and offering a choice to the Spaniards to remain with him or 
sail for home. Some of them decided to remain, and were 
amongst the most determined defenders of Dunboy in the 
subsequent siege. The rest, Donal sent to Spain, despatching 
at the same time envoys with letters to King Philip, urgently 
entreating speedy aid. Moreover, in charge of these messen- 
gers, he sent to the king, as guarantee of his good faith and 
perseverance, his oldest son. a boy of tender years. 

Well knowing that soon he would have the foe upon him, 
Donal now set about preparing Dunboy for the tough and 
terrible trial before it. He had the outworks strengthened in 
every part ; and another castle of his, on Dursey Island (at 
the uttermost extremity of the peninsula, dividing Bantry 



* "Among other places which were neither yielded nor taken toe the end that they 
should be delivered to the English, Don Juan tied himself to deliver my castell and 
haven, the only key of mine inheritance, whereupon the Hving of many thousand 
persons doth rest that live some twenty leagues upon the sea coast, into the hands of 
my cruell, cursed, misbelieving enemies."— Letter of Donal O'Sullivan Beare to the 
King of Spain. — Pacata Hil>emia. 

t O'Sullivan's contingent, we are told, "was amongst those who made the most 
determined fight on the disastrous day of Kinsale, and when the battle was lost it 
bravely protected some of the retreating troops of the northern chieftains, who but for 
such protection would have sufTered more severely than they did. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 289 

and Kenmare bays), garrisoned by a trusty band ; designing 
this latter as a refuge for himself, his family and clansmen, in 
the event of the worst befalling Dunboy. 




XLVI.— HOW THE QUEEN'S FORCES SET ABOUT "TRANQUIL- 
LIZING" MUNSTER. HOW CAREW SENT EARL THOMOND ON A 
MISSION INTO CARBERY, BEAR, AND BANTRY. 

EANWHILE the detachments detailed by Carew 
were doing their savage and merciless work through- 
out Cork and Kerry. According to Carew's own 
'version, the occupation of these troops, day by day 
was the seeking out and murdering in cold blood of all the 
native inhabitants, men, women, and children ; and when 
they were not murdering they were cow-stealing and corn- 
burning. How to extirpate the hapless people — how to blast 
and desolate the land, rather than it should afford sustenance 
to even a solitary fugitive of the doomed race — was the 
constant effort of the English commanders. Carew was not 
the first of his name to signalize himself in such work. It was 
the process by which Munster had been "pacified" — /. e. deso- 
lated—barely thirty years before. It was that by which 
Cromwell, forty years subsequently, pursued the same end. 
It was a system, the infamy of which, amongst the nations of 
the world, pagan or Christian, is wholly monopolized by Eng- 
land. The impartial reader, be his nationality English or 
Irish, perusing the authentic documents stored in the State 
Paper Office, is forced to admit that it was not war in even 
its severest sense, but murder in its most hideous and heartless 
atrocity, that was waged upon the Irish people in the process 
of subjugating them. It was not that process of conquest the 
wounds of which, though sharp and severe for the moment, 
soon cicatrise with time. Such conquests other countries have 
passed through, and time has either fused the conquerer and 
the conquered, or obliterated all bitterness or hate between 



290 ' THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

them. Had Ireland, too, been conquered thus, like happy re- 
sults might be looked for ; but as the process was wofuUy 
different, so has the product been ; so must it ever be, till the 
laws of nature are reversed and revolutionized, and grapes 
grow on thorns and figs on thistles. It was not war — which 
might be forgotten on both sides — but murder which to this 
day is remembered on one side with a terrible memory. 

A thoroughly English historian — Froude — writing in our 
day on these events, has found the testimony of the State 
Paper Office too powerful to resist ; and with all his natural 
and legitimate bias or sympathy in favor of his own country, 
his candor as a historian more than once constitutes him an 
accuser of the infamies to which I have been referrmg. '* The 
English nation," he says, " was shuddering over the atrocities 
of the Duke of Alva. The children m the nurseries were bemg 
inflamed to patriotic rage and madness by the tales of Span- 
ish tyranny. Yet Alva's bloody sword never touched t]ie 
young, the defenceless, or those zvJiose sex even dogs can recognize 
and respect."^ 

"Sir Peter Carew has been seen murdering women and 
^Adir^w, Tindi babies that had scarcely left the breast, but Sir 
Peter Carew was not called on to answer for his conduct, and 
remained in favor with the deputy. Gilbert, who was left in 
command at Kilmallock, was illustrating yet more signally 
the same tendency."! 

" Nor was Gilbert a bad man. As times went he passed 
for a brave and chivalrous gentlemen ; not the least distinguish- 
ed in that high band of adventurers who carried the English 
flag into the western hemisphere, a founder of colonies, an 
explorer of unknown seas, a man of science, and, above all, 
a man of special piety. He regarded himself as dealing rather 
with savao^e beasts than with human bein2:s, and when he track- 
ed them to their dens, he strangled the cubs and rooted out the 
entire broods y\ 

" The Gilbert method of treatment." says Mr. Froude again. 



* Froude's History of Etiglattd, vol. x. page 508. 

t Ibid., vol. X. page 509. 

i Froude's History 0/ England, vol. x. page 508. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 291 

" has this disadvantage, that it must be carried out to the 
last extremity, or it ought not to be tried at all. The dead 
do not come back ; and if the mothers and the babies are 
slaughtered with the men, the race gives no further trouble ; 
but the work must be done thoroughly ; partial and fitful 
cruelty lays up only a long debt of deserved and ever-deepen- 
ing hate." 

The work on this occasion happening not to be "done thor- 
oughly," Mr. Froude immediately proceeds to explain : — 

" In justice to the English soldiers, however, it must be said 
that it was no fault of theirs if any Irish child of that genera- 
tion was allowed to live to manhood." * 

The same historian frankly warns his readers against sup- 
posing that such work was exceptional on the part of the 
English forces. From the language of the ofificial documents 
before him, he says " the inference is but too natural, that 
work of this kind was the road to preferment, and that this, 
or something like it, was the ^r^Z/V/^r;' employment of the 'Sax- 
on' garrisons in Ireland." f 

Such, then, was the work in which Carew the Second and 
his garrisons occupied themselves on the fall of Kinsale. Sir 
Charles Wilmot at the head of fifteen hundred men was des- 
patched to desolate Kerry ; and on the 9th March, Carew 
formally issued a commission to the Earl of Thomond " to 
assemble his forces together, consisting of two thousand and 
hve hundred foot in list, and fifty horse," for the purpose of 
wasting Carbery, Bear, and Bantry, and making a reconnais- 
sance of Dunboy. % Thomond accordingly " marched as far as 
the abbey of Bantrie, and there had notice that Donnell 
O'SuUivan Beare and his people, by the advice of two Span- 

* Ibid., page 507. 

t Ibid., page 512. 

% " The service you are to performe is to doe all your endeavour to burne the rebels' 
Corne in Carbery, Bear, and Bantry, take their cowes, and to use all hostile prosecu- 
tion upon the persons of the people, as in such cases of rebellion is accustomed. 
When you are in Beare (if you may without any apparent perill), your lordship shall 
doe well to take a view of the Castle of Dunboy, whereby wee may be the better in- 
structed how to proceed for the taking of it when time convenient shall be afforded." 
— Instructions given to the Earl of Thomond. 9th March. Pacata Hibemia. 



292 THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 

iards, an Italian, and a fryer called Dominicke Collins, did 
still continue their workesaboutthe castle of Dunboy." " Here- 
upon the earl left seven hundred men in list in the Whiddy 
(an island lying within the Bay of Bantrie) very convenient 
for the service, and himself with the rest of his forces returned 
to Corke, where having made relation of the particulars of 
his journey, it was found necessary that the president, with- 
out any protractions or delay, should draw all the forces in the 
province to a head against them." * 




XLVII. — HOW THE LORD PRESIDENT GATHERED AN ARMY OF 
FOUR THOUSAND MEN TO CRUSH DOOMED DUNBOY, THE LAST 
HOPE OF THE NATIONAL CAUSE IN'MUNSTER. 

'AREW set out from Cork on the 20th April, at the head 
of his army ; on the 30th they reached Dunamark, about 
a mile north of the town of Bantry, having on the way 
halted on the 23rd at Owneboy, near Kinsale ; 24th, 
at Timoleague ; 25th, at Roscarbery ; 26th, at Glenharahan, 
near Castlehaven ; 27th, at Baltimore, where they spent two 
days, Carew visiting Innisherkin ; 29th, " on the mountain, at 
a place called Recareneltaghe, neare unto Kilcoa, being a 
castel wherein the rebell Conoghor, eldest sonne to Sir Fin- 
nin O'Drischoll, knight, held a ward." 

Carew spent a month in encampment at Dunamark, by the 
end of which time the fieet arrived at the same place, or in the 
bay close by, having come round the coast from Cork. Mean- 
time his message for a war muster against O'Sullivan had 
spread throughout Munster. On the other hand, such effort 
as was possible in their hapless plight, was made by the few 
patriot leaders in the province ; all perceiving that upon 
Dunboy now hung the fate of the Irish cause, and seeing 
clearl}' enough that if they could not keep off from O'Sullivan 



Pacata Hibemia. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 293 

the tremendous force ordered against him, it must mevitably 
overwhelm him. Accordingly, spreading themselves east- 
ward around the base of the Beara promontory, and placing 
themselves on all the lines leading thereto, they desperately dis- 
puted the ground with the concentrating English contingents, 
beating them back or obstructing them as best they could. 
Above all, the endeavor was to keep VVilmot's Kerry contingent 
from coming up. Tyrrel wasspecially charged to watch Wil- 
mot — to hold him in check at Killarney, and at all hazard and 
at any cost to prevent his junction with Carew at Bantry. Tyr- 
rel posted his lorce so advantageously in the passes leading 
southward from Killarney, and held them so firmly, that for 
weeks VVilmot's most vehement efforts to force or flank them 
were vain. At length, by a feat which merits for him, as a mili- 
tary achievement, everlasting praise — a night march over 
Mangerton mountain — Wilmot evaded Tyrrel ; pushed on 
through a mountain district scarcely passable at this day for 
horsemen, until he reached Inchigeela ; thence he marched 
through Ceam-an-eigh Pass (unaccountably left unguarded), 
and so onward till he reached Bantry. By thisjunction Carew's 
force was raised to nearly four thousand men. While waiting 
for Wilmot, the daily occupation of the army, according to 
the lord president's account, was sheep-stealing and cow-steal- 
ing.* At Dunamark Carew was joined by the sons of Sir 
Owen Sullivan, uncle of Donal of Dunboy ; and to the infor- 



* "The first of May, Captaine Taffe's troop of Horse with certain Hght foote were 
sent from the Campe, who returned with three hundred Coiucs, many Sheepe, and a 
great number of Garrans they got from the Rebels. 

"The second Captaine John Barry brought into the Campe, five hundred Cowes, 
three hundred Sheepe, three hundred Garrans, and had the killing of five Rebels : 
and the same day we procured skirmish in the edge of the Fastnesse with the rebels, 
but no hurt of our part. 

"The third, Owen Osulevan and his brothers, sonnes to Sir Owen Osulevan (who 
stands firme, and deserved well of her Majestic, being Competitours with Osulevan 
Beare) brought somtfiftie Ccnves and some sheepe from the enemy into the Campe. 

"The Rebells receiving also notice, that the President was marched so neere to 
the Countrey of Beare, withdrew themselves out of Desmond (as before) into Glan- 
garve, whereby opportunitie was offered to the Governour of performing some good 
service. For Donnell Osulevan More, a malicious Rebell, remained with great store 
of cattel.and certain Kerne in Iveragh ; which being made knowen to Sir Charles, upon 



294 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

mation and cooperation given his enemies by these perfidious 
cousins, Donal most largely owed the fate that subsequently 
befel him. 

On the 14th of May a council of war was held in the Eng- 
lish camp to determine their course to Bearhaven ; whereat 
it was decided to march by the southern shore of the bay, 
called Muinter-varia, to a point nearly opposite Bear Island; 
from this point by means of the fleet, to transport the whole 
army across the bay to Bear Island ; and thence across to 
the mainland close by Dunboy; this course being rendered 
necessary by the fact that Donal's forces defended the passes 
of Glengarriffe, through which alone Bearhaven could be 
reached by land from Bantry. On the 31st of May, accord- 
ingly, Carew marched from Dunamark to "Kilnamenghe on 
the sea side, in Mountervarry." The two next following days 
were occupied in transporting the army to Bear Island, upon 
which, eventually, the whole force was landed. A short 
march across the island brought them to its northern shore, in 
full view of Dunboy, barely a mile distant across the narrow 
entrance to Bearhaven harbor. 

the fifth of May, hee secretly dispached a partie of men, which burnt and spoykd all 
the Coiintrey, and returned with foiire thousand Cowes, besides Sheepe and Garratis.'' 
"A Sergeant of the Earleof Thomond's with a partie of his Company, drew to Down- 
Manus, whence hee brought a prey of threescore arid sixe Cowes, with a great many of 
Garrans. " — Pacata Hibcrn ia. 



^M^ 
^^^m^ 



THE STOKY OF lEELAND. 



295 



XLVIII.— THE LAST DAYS OF DUXBOY : A TALE OF HEROISM ! 




ELL might consternation fill 
the breasts of the Beara clans- 
men on beholding the re- 
sources now displayed against 
; a well-appointed army of 
nearly four thousand men on the 
shore, and hostile war-ships encir- 
cling them by sea I Within the castle 
O'Sullivan had, according to the 
English accounts, exactly one hundred and forty-three men ; 
there being besides these not more than five or six hundred 
of his clansmen available at the moment for fighting purposes. 
But his was not a soul to be shaken by fears into abandonment 
of a cause which, failing or gaining, was sacred and holy in his 
eyes — the cause of religion and country. So Donal, who knew 
that a word of submission would purchase for him not onl}- 
safety but reward, undisturbed possession of his ancestral 
rights, and English titles to wear if he would, quailed not in this 



'296 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

nor in still darker hours. He had " nailed his colors to the 
mast," and looked Fate calmly in the face. 

It seems to have been a maxim with the lord president nev- 
er to risk open fight until he had first tried to effect his pur- 
pose by secret treason. While staying at Bantry he had 
addressed a letter to the Spanish gunners in Dunbo}', offer- 
mg them all manner of inducements to betray O'Sullivan, to 
desert the castle, first taking care, as he says, " to cloy the 
ordnance or may me their carriages, that when they shall have 
need of them they may prove useless ; for the which I will 
forthwith liberally recompense you answerable to the quali- 
ties of your merit." The infamous proposition was scouted 
by the men to whom it was addressed. Carew, unabashed, now 
resolved to try whether he could not corrupt the Constable 
of Dunboy, O'Sullivan's most trusted friend, a man whose 
memory is to this day held in worship by the people of Beara 
— Richard Mac Geoghegan, the impersonation of chivalrous 
fidelity, the very soul of truth, honor, and bravery ! Tho- 
mond was commissioned to invite the Constable of Dunboy to 
a parley. Mac Geoghegan acceded to the invitation, came 
across to Bear Island (5th June), and met the earl, in presence 
of, but apart from, their respective guards, on the shore. Of 
that memorable interview Carew has left us a brief but char- 
acteristic description. " All the eloquence and artifice which 
the Earle could use avayled nothing: for Mac Geoghegan 
was resolved to persevere in his wayes ; and, in the great 
love which he pretended to beare unto the Earle (Thomond), 
he advised him not to hazard his life in landing upon the 

Mayne The Earle disdayning both his obstin- 

acie and his vaine-glorious advice, broke off his speech, 
telling Mac Geoghegan that ere many days passed hee would 
repent that hee had not followed his (the Earle's) counsel."* 

Carew had at first designed to cross over and land on the 
mam at what seemed to be the only feasible point, a smooth 
strand at a spot now called Caematrangan. Within a few 
perches of this spot reaches one end of a small island (" Deen- 
ish ") which stretches almost completely across the mouth of 

* Pacata Hibemia. 



THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 297 

the inner harbor of (modern) Castletown Beare. Carew 
landed a portion of his army on this small island ; but O'Sul- 
hvan had erected a battery faced with gabions at Caematran- 
gan, and had, moreover, his small force drawn up at hand to 
meet the invaders at the shore. Whereupon Carew, while 
making a feint as if about to attempt the passage there, direct- 
ed the remainder of his force quickly to pass to the other (or 
eastern) extremity of Deenish, and effect a landing on the 
main at that point. This they were able to accomplish unop- 
posed, for the distance thereto, from O'Sullivan's strand bat- 
tery, owing to the sweep of the shore and a narrow arm of 
the sea intervening, was two or three miles, whereas directly 
across, by water or on Deenish Island, was a reach of less 
than half a mile. Nevertheless, O'SuUivan, discerning, though 
all too late, the skilful use made by Carew of the natural ad- 
vantages of the ground, hastened with all speed to confront 
the invaders, and una wed by the disparity of numbers agamst 
him — thousands against hundreds— boldly gave them battle. 
Carew himself seems to have been quite struck with the dar- 
ing courage or " audacity" of this proceeding. After mar- 
velling at such foolhardiness, as he thought it, he owns " they 
came on bravely," and maintained a very determined attack. 
It was only when additional regiments were hurried up, and 
utterly overwhelmed them by numbers, that Donal's little 
force had to abandon the unequal strife, leaving their dead 
and wounded upon the field. 

That night, however, there reached Dunboy news well cal- 
culated to compensate for the gloom of perils so great and so 
near at hand. A Spanish ship had arrived at O'Sullivan's 
castle of Ardea (in Kenmare bay, on the northern shore of 
the Beara promontory) bringing to Donal letters and envoys 
from King Philip, and aid for the Munster chiefs in money, 
arms, and ammunition, committed to his care for distribution. 

Moreover, there came by this ship the cheering intelligence 
that an expedition of some fifteen thousand men was being or- 
ganized in Spain for Ireland when the vessel sailed ! Here was 
glorious hope indeed I It was instantly decided that the chief 
himself should proceed with all promptitude to meet the envoys 



298 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

landed at Ardea,* and look to the important duties required 
of him by their messages ; meanwhile entrusting the defence 
of Dunboy to Mac Geoghegan and a chosen garrison. Next 
morning Donal, with all his available force, exclusive of a 
garrison of one hundred and forty-three picked men left in 
the castle, set out for Ardea. The farewell cheers that rang 
out from the ramparts behind him, gave token of brave re- 
solve to do or die, and doubtless helped to lighten the chief- 
tain's heart with whispers of hope. But alas ! Donal had 
taken his last farewell of Dunboy. When next he gazed upon 
the once proud home of his fathers it was a smoking and 
blood-clotted ruin ! — 

The halls where mirth and minstrelsy 

Than Beara's wind rose louder, 
Were flung in masses lonelily, 

And black with English powder ! 

For eleven days Mac Geoghegan fought Dunboy against 
Carewand his surrounding army of four thousand men! 
Eleven days, during which the thick white cloud of smoke 
never once lifted from battery and trench, and the deafening 
boom of cannon never once ceased to roll across the bay. 
By the 17th of June the castle had been knocked into a ruin- 
ous condition by an incessant bombardment from the well-ap- 
pointed English batteries. The lord president devotes several 
pages of his journal to minute and copious descriptions of each 
day's labor in a siege which he declares to be unparalleled for 
obstinacy of defence ; and his narrative of the closing scenes of 
the struggle is told with painful particularity. Mr. Haverty 
condenses the tragic story very eflfectively as follows : — 
•' The garrison consisted of only one hundred and forty-three 
chosen fighting men, who had but a few small cannon, while 



* These were the Most Rev. Dr. McEgan, Bishop of Ross, and Father Nealon. 
They brought, says Carew, " letters to sundry rebels, and twelve thousand pounds. 
The disposition of the money by appointment in Spaine was left principally to Don- 
nail O'Sulevan Beare, Owen McEggan, James Archer, and some others." This 
same Bishop McF.gan was subsequently killed near Bandon fighting gallantly, with 
his sword in one hand and his beads in the other. His remains were buried in the 
Abbey of Timoleague.— (See the Pacaia Hibemia ; also Dunboy, by T. D. Sullivan.) 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 299 

the comparatively large army which assailed them were well 
supplied with artillery and all the means of attack. At length, 
on the 17th of June, when the castle had been nearly shatter- 
ed to pieces, the garrison offered to surrender if allowed to 
depart with their arms ; but their messenger was immediately 
hanged and the order for the assault was given. Although 
the proportion of the assailants in point of numbers was over- 
whelming, the storming part}' were resisted with the most 
desperate bravery. From turret to turret, and in every part 
of the crumbling ruins, the struggle was successively main- 
tained throughout the live-long day ; thirty of the gallant 
defenders attempted to escape by swimming, but soldiers had 
been posted in boats, who killed them in the water ; and at 
length the surviving portion of the garrison retreated into 
a cellar, into which the only access was by a narrow, winding 
fight of stone steps. Their leader, MacGeoghegan being 
mortally wounded, the command was given to Thomas 
Taylor, the son of an Englishman, and the intimate friend of 
Captain Tyrrell, to whose niece he was married. Nine bar- 
rels of gunpowder were stowed away in the cellar, and with 
these Taylor declared that he would blow up all that re- 
mained of the castle, burying himself and his companions with 
their enemies in the ruins, unless they received a promise of 
life. This was refused by the savage Carew, who, placing 
a guard upon the entrance to the cellar, as it was then after 
sunset, returned to the work of slaughter next morning. 
Cannon balls were discharged among the Irish in their last 
dark retreat, and Taylor was forced by his companions to 
surrender unconditionall)' ; but when some of the English 
officers descended into the cellar, they found the wounded 
Mac Geoghegan, with a lighted torch in his hand, staggering 
to throw it into the gunpowder. Captain Power thereupon 
seized him by the arms, and the others despatched him with 
their swords ; but the work of death was not yet completed. 
Fifty-eight of those who had surrendered were hanged that 
day in the English camp, and some others were hanged a few 
days after ; so that not one of the one hundred and forty-three 
heroic defenders of Dunboy survived. On the 22nd of June 



300 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

the remains of the castle were blown up by Carew with the 
gunpowder found therein." 

Few episodes of Irish history have been more warmly 
eulogized than this heroic defence of Dunboy ; nor would it 
be easy to find in the history of any countr)' one more largely 
calculated to excite sympathy and admiration. Dr. Robert 
Dvvyer Joyce, in his published volume of Ballads, Ro>nanccs, 
and Songs, contributes a truly graphic poem on the subject. 
Subjoined are the concluding stanzas: — 

THE SACK OF DUNBUI. 



Nearer yet they crowd and come, 

With taunting and yelling and thundering drum, 

With taunting and yelling the hold they environ, 

And swear that its towers and defenders must fall, 
While the cannon are set, and their death-hail of iron 

Crash wildly on bastion and turret and wall ; 
And the ramparts are torn from their base to their brow ; 
Ho ! will they not yield to the murderers now ? 
No ! its huge towers shall float over Cleena's bright sea. 
Ere the Gael prove a craven in lonely Dunbui. 

Like the fierce god of battle, Mac Geoghegan goes 
From rampart to wall, in the face of his foes, 

Now his voice rises high o'er the cannon's fierce din, 
Whilst the taunt of the Saxon is loud as before, 

But a yell thunders up from his warriors within. 
And they dash through the gateway, down, down to the shore, 
With their chief rushing on. Like a storm in its wrath, 
They sweep the cowed Saxon to death in their path ; 
Ah ! dearly he '11 purchase the fall of the free, 
Of the lion-souled warriors of lonely Dunbui ! 

Leaving terror behind them, and death in their train, 
Now they stand on their walls 'mid the dying and slain, 

And the night is around them— the battle is still — 
That lone summer midnight, ah ! short is its reign ; 

For the morn springeth upward, and valley and hill 
Fling back the fierce echoes of conflict again. 
And see ! how the foe rushes up to the breach. 
Towards the green waving banner he yet may not reach. 
For look how the Gael flings him back to the sea. 
From the blood-reeking ramparts of lonely Dunbui ! 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 301 

Night Cometh again, and the white stars look down, 
From the hold to the beach, where the batteries frown 

Night Cometh again, but affrighted she flies, 
Like a black Indian queen from the fierce panther's loar, 

And morning leaps up in the wide-spreading skies, 
To his welcome of thunder and flame evermore ; 
For the guns of the Saxon crush fearfully there, 
Till the walls and the towers and ramparts are bare. 
And the foe make their last mighty swoop on the free, 
The brave hearted warriors of lonely Dunbui ! 

Within the red breach see Mac Geoghegan stand, 
With the blood of the foe on his arm and his brand, 

And he turns to his warriors, and "fight we," says he, 
" For country, for freedom, religion, and all : 

Better sink into death, and for ever be free. 
Than yield to the false Saxon's mercy and thrall !" 
And they answer with brandish of sparth and of glaive : 
" Let them come: we will give them a welcome and grave; 
Let them come : from their swords could we flincli, could we flee, 
When we fight for our country, our God, and Dunbui ?" 

They came, and the Gael met their merciless shock — 

Flung them backward like spray from the lone Skellig rock 
But they rally, as wolves springing up to the death 

Of their brother of famine, the bear of the snow- 
He hurls them adown to the ice fields beneath. 

Rushing back to his dark norland cave from the foe ; — 

So up to the breaches they savagely bound, 

Thousands still thronging beneath and around, 

Till the firm Gael is driven — till the brave Gael must flee 

In, into the chambers of lonely Dunbui ! 

In chamber, in cellar, on stairway and tower. 
Evermore they resisted the false Saxon's p)Ower ; 

Through the noon, through the eve, and the darkness of night 
The clangor of battle rolls fearfully there, 

Till the morning leaps upward in glory and light. 
Then, where are the true-hearted warriors of Beare ? 
They have found them a refuge from torment and chain, 
They have died with their chief, save the few who remain. 
And that few — oh, fair Heaven ! on the high gallows tree, i 

They swing by the ruins of lonely Dunbui ! 

Long, long in the hearts of the brave and the free 
Live the warriors who died in the lonely Dunbui — 

Down time's silent river their fair names shall go. 
A light to our race towards the long coming day ; 

Till the billows of time shall be checked in their flow • 



302 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

Can we find names so sweet for remembrance as they ! 
And we will hold their memories for ever and aye, 
A halo, a glory that ne'er shall decay, 
We'll set them as stars o'er eternity's sea, 
The names of the heroes who fell at Dunbui ! 

During the progress of the siege at Dunboy, Carew had 
despatched a force to Dursey island, which, landing in the 
night, succeeded in overpowering the small and indeed un- 
wary garrison left there ; *' so that," as a historian remarks, " no 
roof now rema-ined to the Lord of Bearhaven." Donal, col- 
lecting his people, one and all, men, women, and children, as 
well as all the herds and removable property of the clan, now 
retired eastward upon his great natural stronghold of Glen- 
gariffe. Here he defied and defeated every attempt to dis- 
lodge him.* For three months he awaited with increasing anx- 
iety and suspense the daily-expected news from Spain. Alas ! 
In the words of one of our historians, " the ill-news from Spain 
in September, threw a gloom over those mountains deeper 
than was ever cast by equinoctial storm." But here we must 
pause for awhile to trace the movements of O'Donnell and 
O'Neill after the parting at Innishannon. 

* On one occasion a fierce and protracted battle ensued between him and the com- 
bined forces of Wilmot, Selsby, and Slingsby: "A bitter fight," says Carew, "main- 
tained without intermission for sixe howers; the Enemy not leaving their pursuit 
until they came in sight of the campe; for whose reliefe two regiments were drawne 
forth to gieve countenance, and Downings was sent with one hundred and twenty 
choisse men to the succour of Barryand Selby, who in the reare were so hotly charged 
by the Rebels that they came to the Sword and Pike ; and the skirmish continued 
//// night parted them.'" Notwithstanding their immense superiority in numbers, 
night was a welcome relief to the English; for it not only saved them from a perilous 
position, but enabled them to get off an immense spoil of cattle, which early in the 
day they had taken from the Irish. Brilliant as was the victory for O'Sullivan in other 
respects, the loss thus sustained must have been most severe — two thousand cows, 
four thousand sheep, and one thousand horse, according to Carew; a store of sheep 
and kine which, even in these days of "cattle shows" and "agricultural societies," it 
would be difficult to collect in the same locality. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 305 




XLIX.— HOW THE FALL OF DUNBOY CAUSED KING PHILIP TO 
CHANGE ALL HIS PLANS, AND RECALL THE EXPEDITION 

' FOR IRELAND ; AND HOW THE REVERSE BROKE THE BRAVE 
HEART OF RED HUGH. HOW THE "LION OF THE NORTH" 
STOOD AT BAY, AND MADE HIS FOES TREMBLE TO THE LAST. 

HREE days after the defeat at Kinsale, O'Donnell — hav- 
ing deputed his brother Ruari to command the clan in 
his absence — accompanied by his confessor, his secre- 
^(^ tary, and some military attaches or aides-de-camp, sailed 
fi^m Castlehaven for Corunna, where he arrived on the 14th 
of January. " He was received with high distinction by the 
Marquis of Caracena and other nobles, 'who evermore gave 
O'Donnell the right hand ; which within his government,' says 
Carew,' he would not have done to the greatest duke in Spain.' 
He travelled through Gallicia, and at Santiago de Cpmpostella 
was royally entertained by the archbishop and citizens ; but 
in bull-fighting on the stately Alameda he had small pleasure. 
With teeth set and heart on lire, the chieftain hurried on, 
traversed the mountains of Gallicia and Leon, and drew not 
bridle until he reached Zamora, where King Philip was then 
holding his court. With passionate zeal he pleaded his coun- 
try's cause ; entreated that a greater fleet and a stronger armv 
might be sent to Ireland without delay, unless his Cathcjlic 
majesty desired to see his ancient Milesian kinsmen and allies 
utterly destroyed and trodden into earth by the tyrant Eliza- 
beth ; and above all, whatever was to be done he prayed it 
might be done instantly, while O'Neill still held his army on 
foot and his banner flying ; while it was not yet too late to 
rescue poor Erin from the deadly fangs of those dogs of 
England. The king received him affectionately, treated him 
with high consideration, and actually gave orders for a power- 
ful force to be drawn together at Corunna for another descent 
upon Ireland."* 

* Mitchel. 



306 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

" He returned to that port, from which he could every 
day look out across the western waves that lay between 
him and home, and where he could be kept constantly in- 
formed of what was passing m Ireland. Spring was over 
and gone, and summer too had passed away, but still the 
exigencies of Spanish policy delayed the promised expedi- 
tion." * "That armament never sailed ; and poor O'Donnell 
never saw Ireland more ; for news arrived in Spain, a few 
months after, that Dun-baoi Castle, the last stronghold in 
Munster that held out for King Philip, was taken ; and Beare- 
haven, the last harbor in the south that was open to his ships, 
effectually guarded by the English. The Spanish preparations 
were countermanded, and Red Hugh was once more on his 
journey to the court, to renew his almost hopeless suit, and 
had arrived at Simancas, two leagues from Valladolid, when 
he suddenly fell sick ; his gallant heart was broken, and he 
died there on the loth of September 1602. He was buried 
by order of the king with royal honors, as befitted a prince 
of the Kinel-Conal ; and the chapter of the cathedral of St. 
Francis, in the stately city of Valladolid, holds the bones ol 
as noble a chief and as stout a warrior as ever bore the wand 
of chieftaincy, or led a clan to battle." f 

" Thus," says another writer, "closed the career of one of 
the brightest and noblest characters in any histor}-. His 
youth, his early captivity, his princely generosity, his daring 
courage, his sincere piety, won the hearts of all who came in 
contact with him. He was the sword, as O'Neill was the 
brain, of the Ulster confederacy : the Ulysses and Achilles 
of the war, they fought side by side without jealousy or envy, 
for almost as long a period as their prototypes had spent in 
besieging Troy." 

One cannot peruse unmoved the quaint and singular recital 
of O'Donnell's characteristic merits and virtues given by 
the Four Masters. Of him it can with scrupulous truth be 
said that — unlike not a few others, famed as soldiers, or rulers, 
or statesmen — his character, in every phase, was pure and 
r.oble ; and that his private life as well as his public career 

*M'Gee. + MitcheL 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 307 

was worthy of admiration, wi'thout stain and witiiout reproach. 
Meanwhile O'Neill had set out homeward at the head of the 
shattered Ulster contingent ; and now the lord deputy felt that 
the moment had come for a supreme effort to pour down up- 
on and overwhelm him. The " Lion of the north " was struck, 
and, badly wounded, was retreating to his lair. This was sure- 
ly the time for pressing him to the death — for surrounding, 
capturing, or slaying the once dreaded foe. So throughout 
Leinster, Connacht, and Ulster, the cry was spread for the 
English garrisons, and all natives who would mark themselves 
for favor and consideration, to rise simultaneously and burst 
in upon the territories of the confederate chiefs; while the 
deputy swiftly assembled troops to intercept, capture or des- 
troy them on their homeward way from the south. The Irish 
cause was down — disastrously and hopelessly. Now, there- 
fore, was the time for all who " bow the knee and worship the 
rising sun " to show their zeal on the winning side. Tyrcon- 
nell and Tyrowen, as well as the territories of O'Rorke and 
Maguire, were inundated by converging streams of regular 
troops and volunteer raiders ; while O'Neill, like a " lion," in- 
deed, who finds that the hunter is rifling his home, made the 
earth tremble in his path to the rescue ! With the concen- 
trated passion of desperation he tore through every obstacle, 
routed every opposing army, and marched — strode — to the 
succor of his people, as if a thunderbolt cleared'the way. Soon 
his enemies were made to understand that the " Lion of the 
North *' was still alive and unsubdued. But it was, in sooth, a 
desperate cause that now taxed to its uttermost the genius of 
Hugh. The lord deputy, Mountjoy, proceeded to the north 
to take command in person against him ; while " Dowcra, 
marching out of Derry, pressed O'Neill from the north and 
northeast." Mountjoy advanced on Hugh's family seat, Dun- 
gannon ; but O'Neill could ever better bear to see his ancestral 
home in ashes than to have it become the shelter of his foes. 
The Lord deputy " discovered it in the distance, as Norris 
had once before done, in flames, kindled by the hand of its 
straitened proprieter." With vigor and skill undimished and 
spirit undaunted Hugh rapidly planned and carried out his 



308 THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 

measures of defensive operations. In fine, it was in tiiis mo- 
ment of apparent wreck and ruin and despair, that O'Neill's 
character rose into positive grandeur and subHmity, and that 
his glorious talents shone forth in their greatest splendor. 
" Never," says one of our historians, " did the genius of Hugh 
O'Neill shine out brighter than in these last defensive oper- 
ations. In July, Mountjoy writes apologetically to the coun- 
cil, that ' notwithstanding her Majesty's great forces O'Neil 
doth still live.' He bitterly complains of his consummate cau- 
tion, his ' pestilent judgment to spread and to nourish his owiii 
infection,' and of the reverence entertained for his person by 
the native population. Early in August, Mountjoy had 
arranged what he had hoped might prove the finishing stroke 
in the struggle ; Dowcra from Derry, Chichester from Car- 
rickfergus, Danvers from Armagh, and all who could be spared 
from Mountjoy, Charlemont, and Mountnorris, were gathered 
under his command, to the number of eight thousand men, for 
a foray into the interior of Tyrone. Inisloghlin, on the bor- 
ders of Down and Antrim, which contained a great quantity 
of valuables belonging to O'Neill, was captured, Magherlow- 
ney and Tulloghoge were next taken. At the latter place 
stood the ancient stone chair on which the O'Neills were 
inaugurated, time out of mind ; it was now broken into atoms 
by Mountjoy 's orders. But the most effective warfare was 
made on the growing crops. The eight thousand men spread 
themselves over the fertile fields, along the valleys of the Bann 
and the Roe, destroying the standing grain with fire, where it 
would burn, or with the praca, a peculiar kind of harrow, tear- 
ing it up by the roots. The horsemen trampled crops into the 
earth which had generously nourished them ; the infantry shore 
them down with their sabres ; and the sword, though in a very 
different sense from that of Holy Scripture, was indeed, con- 
verted into a sickle. The harvest moon never shone upon 
such fields in any Christian land. In September, Mountjoy 
reported to Cecil, ' that between Tullaghoge and Toome there 
lay unburied a thousand dead,' and that since his arrival on the 
Black water— a period of a couple of months — there were three 
thousand starved in Tyrone. In O'Cane's country, the misery 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 309 

of his clansmen drove the chief to surrender to Dowcra, and 
the news of Hugh Roe's death having reached Donegal, his 
brother repaired to Athlone, and made his submission to 
iMountjoy. Early in December, O'Neill unable to maintain 
himself on the river Roe, retired with six hundred foot and 
sixty horse to Glencancean, near Lough Neagh, the most se- 
cure of his fastnesses. His brother Cormac, McMahon, and 
Art O'Neil, of Clandeboy, shared with him the wintry hard- 
shipsof that asylum, while Tyrone, Clandeboy, and Monaghan, 
were given up to horrors surpassing any that had been known 
or dreamt of in former wars. 

By this time O'Sullivan had bravely held his position in 
Glengarriffe for full six months against all the efforts of the INIun- 
ster army. That picturesque glen, whose beauty is of world- 
wide fame, was for Donal a camp formed by nature, within which 
the old and helpless, the women and children of his clan, with 
their kine and sheep, where safely placed, while the fighting 
force, which, with Tyrrell's contingent, did not exceed 800 
men, guarded the few passes through which alone the alpine 
barriers of the glen could be penetrated. Here the little 
community, as we might call them, housed in tents of ever- 
green boughs, lived throughout the summer and autumn 
months, " waiting for the news from Spain." They fished the 
"fishful river" that winds through that elysian vale, and the 
myriad contiuent streams that pour down from the " hundred 
lakes" of Caha. They hunted the deer that in those days, as 
in our own, roamed wild and free through the densely wood- 
ed craggy dells. Each morning the guards were told off for 
the mountain watches ; and each evening the bugles of the 
chief, returning from his daily inspection, or the joyous shouts 
of victory that proclaimed some new assault of the enemy 
repulsed, woke the echoes of the hills. And perhaps in the 
calm summer twilight, the laugh and the song went round ; 
the minstrels touched their harps, and the clansmen impro- 
vised their simple rustic sports, while the Chief and Lady 
Aileen moved through the groups with a gracious smile for 
all ! For they nothing doubted that soon would come the 
glad tidings that king Philip's ships were in the bay ; and 



310 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

then ! — Beara would be swept of the hated foe, and their loved 
Dunboy 

again would rise 

And mock thie English rover ! 

Alas ! this happy dream was to fade in sorrow, and die out 
in bitterest reality of despair ! News came indeed from Spain 
at length ; but it was news that sounded the knell of all their 
hopes to O'Sullivan and his people ! O'Donnel was dead, and 
and on hearing of the fall of Dunboy the Spanish government 
had countermanded the expedition assembled and on the 
point of sailing for Ireland ! This was heart-crushing intelli- 
gence for Donal and his confederates. Nevertheless they 
held out still. There remained one faint glimmer in the north ; 
and while there was a sword unsheathed any where in the 
sacred cause of fatherland, they would not put up theirs. 
They gave Carew's captams hot work throughout Desmond 
for the remainder of the autumn, capturmg several strong 
positions, and driving in his outlying garrisons in Muskerry 
and the Carberies. But soon even the northern ray went out, 
and the skies all around were wrapt in Cimmerian gloom. 
There was room for hope no more! 

What was now Donal's position ? It is difficult adequately 
to realise it ! Winter was upon him ; the mountains were 
deep in snow ; his resources were exhausted ; he was cooped 
up in a remote glen, with a crowd of helpless people, the aged 
and infirm, women and children, and with barely a few hun- 
dred fighting men to guard them. He was environed by foes 
on all hands. The nearest point where an ally could be 
reached was in Ulster, at the other extremity of Ireland— two 
or three hundred miles away— and the country between him 
and any such friendly ground was all in the hands of the Eng- 
lish, and swarmed with their garrisons and scouring parties. 

The resolution taken by O'Sullivan under these circum- 
stances was one which has ever since excited amongst histor- 
ical writers and military critics the liveliest sentiments of 
astonishment and admiration. It was to pierce through his 
surrounding foes, and fight his way northward inch by inch to 
Ulster ; convoying meantime the ivomen and children, the aged, sick, 



THE STORY OF lEEIAND. 311 

and wounded of his clan — in fine, all who might elect to claim his 
protection and share his retreat rather than trust the perils of 
remaining. It was this latter feature which preeminently 
stamped the enterprise as almost without precedent. For 
four hundred men, under such circumstances, to cut their 
way from Glengariffe to Lietrim, even if divested of every 
other charge or duty save the clearing of their own path, 
would be sufficiently daring to form an episode of romance ; 
and had Donal more regard for his own safety than for his 
" poor people," this would have been the utmost attempted 
by him. But he was resolved, let what might befal, not to 
abandon even the humblest or the weakest amongst them. 
While he had a sword to draw, he would defend them ; and 
he would seek no safety or protection for himself that was not 
shared by them. His own wife and, at least, the youngest of 
his children, he left behind in charge of his devoted foster- 
brother, Mac Swiney, who succesfuUy concealed them un- 
til the chief's return, nearly eight months subsequently, 
in an almost inaccessible spot at the foot of an immense 
precipice in the Glengarriffe mountains, now known as the 
Eagle's Nest. Many other families also elected to try the 
chance of escape from Carew's scouring parties, and remained 
behind, hidden in the fastnesses of that wild region. 



312 THE STOBY OF IREIAND. 



-THE RETREAT TO LEITRIM ; " THE MOST ROMANTIC AND 
GALLANT ACHIEVEMENT OF THE AGE." 

!J/!|N the last day of December, 1602, was commenced this 
\i I memorable retreat, which every writer or commenta- 
Y^ tor, whether of that period or of our own, civil or 
^ military, English or Irish, has concurred in character- 
izing as scarcely to be paralleled in history.* Tyrrell and 
other of the confederates had drawn off some time previously, 
when sauve qui pent evidently became the maxim with the 
despair-stricken band ; so that O'Sullivan's force when setting 
out from Glengarriffe consisted exactly of four hundred 
fighting men, and about six hundred non-combatants, women, 
children, aged and infirm people, and servants. f Even in our 
own day, and in time of peace, with full facilities of transport 
and supply, the commissariat arrangements necessary to be 
made beforehand along the route of such a body — a thousand 
souls — would require some skill and organization. But O'Sul- 
livan could on no day tell where or how his people were to 
find sustenance for the morrow. He had money enough,:}: it 
IS true, to purchase supplies ; but no one durst sell them to 
him, or permit him to take them. Word was sent through 
the country by the lord president for all, on peril of being- 
treated as O' Sullivan^ s covert or open abettors, to fall upon him, 
to cross his road, to bar his way, to watch him at the fords, 
to come upon him by night; and, above all, to drive off or 
destroy all cattle or other possible means of sustenance, so 



* " We read of nothing more like to the expedition of Young Cyrus and the Ten 
Thousand Greeks, than this retreat of O'SuUivan Beare." — Abbe Mac Gtoghegan. 

"One of the most extraordinary retreats recorded in history. — Haverty. 

"A retreat almost unparalleled.— ^l/'G^ifc'. 

" The most romantic and gallant achievement of the age." — Davis. 

t HistoritE Catholica: Hiberttia, Haverty, M'Gee, Mac Geoghegan. 

t Even on the last day of his terrible retreat, we find him able to pay a guide very 
liberally in gold pieces. 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 313 

that of sheer necessity his party must perish on the way. 
Whose lands soever O'Sullivan would be found to have pass- 
ed through unresisted, or whereupon he was allowed to find 
food of any kind, the government would consider forfeited. 
Such were the circumstances under which the Lord of Beara 
and his immortal Four Hundred set out on their mid- winter 
retreat on the 31st December, 1602. 

That evening, Don Philip tells us, they reached and en- 
camped at " a place on the borders of Muskerry, called by the 
natives Acharis." * Next day, ist January, 1603, they reach- 
ed "before noon," " Balebrunia" (Bally vourny), famed as the 
retreat of St. Gubeneta, whose ruined church and penitential 
stations are still frequented by pious pilgrims. Here O'Sulli- 
van and his entire force halted, that they might begin their 
journey by offering all their sufferings to God, and supplicat- 
ing the powerful prayers of His saint. Donal and several 
members of his family made gifts to the altar, and the little 
army, having prayed for some time, resumed their weary 
march. The ordeal commenced for them soon. They were 
assailed and harassed all the way " by the sons of Thadeus 
Mac Carthy," several being wounded on both sides. They 
cleared their road, however, and that night encamped in 
" O'Kimbhi " (O'Keefe's country : Duhallow) ; " but," says 
Philip, "they had little rest at night after such a toilsome day, 
for they were constantly molested by the people of that place, 
and suffered most painfully from hunger. For they had been 
able to bring with them but one day's provisions, and these 
they had consumed on the first day's march." Next morning 
they pushed forward towards the confines of Limerick, de- 
signing to reach that ancient refuge of the oppressed and 
vanquished, the historic Glen of Aherlow, where at least they 

* I am not aware that any one hitherto has identified this spot; but it is. neverthe- 
less, plainly to be found. The place is the junction of some mountain roads, in a truly 
wild and solitary locality, about a mile north of the present village of Bealnageary, 
which is between Gougane Barra and Macroom. In a little grove the ruined church 
oi Agharts (marked on the Ordnance maps) identifies for us the locality of " Acharis." 
It is on the road to Ballyvourney by O'Sullivan's route, which was from Glengarriffe 
eastward by his castle of the Fawn's Rock (" Carrick-an-Asa"), where he left a ward; 
thence through the Pass of the Deer :" Ceam-an-eih") northward to Agharis. 



314 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

hoped for rest in safety during a few days' halt, but their path 
now lay through the midst ot their foes — right between the 
garrisons of Charleville and Buttevant, and they scarcely 
hoped to cross the river in their front without a heavy penal- 
ty. And truly enough, as the faint and weary cavalcade 
reached the bank, a strong force under the brother of Vis- 
count Barry encountered them at Bellaghy Ford. The wo- 
men and children were at once put to the rear, and the hun- 
ger-wasted company, nevertheless, all unflinching, came up to 
the conflict like heroes. It was a bitter fight, but despair 
gave energy to that desperate fugitive band. They literally 
swept their foes before them, and would not have suffered a 
man to escape them had not hunger and terrible privation 
told upon them too severely to allow of a pursuit. Dr. Joyce 
chronicles this combat for us in one of his ballads : 

We stood so steady, 

All under fire, 
'>Ve stood so steady, 
Our long spears ready 

To vent our ire — 
To dash on the Saxon, 
Our mortal foe, 
And lay him low 

In the bloody mire ! 

# 
'T was by Blackwater, 

When snows were white, 
'T was by Blackwater, 
Our foes for the slaughter 

Stood full in sight; 
But we were ready 
With our long spears ; 
And we had no fears 

But we 'd win the fight. 

Their bullets came whistling 

Upon our rank. 
Their bullets came whisthng 
Their bay'nets were bristling 

On th' other bank. 
Yet we stood steady. 
And each good blade 
Ere the morn did fade 

At their life-blood drank. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 315 

" Hurra ! for Freedom !" 

Came from our van; 
" Hurra ! for Freedom ! 
Our swords — we '11 feed 'em 

As but we can — 
With vengeance we '11 feed 'em 1" 
,' Then down we crashed, 

I Through the wild ford dashed, 

t And the fray began ! 

Horses to horses 

And man to man — 
O'er dying horses 
And blood and corses 

O'SulUvan, 
Our general, thundered ; 
And we were not slacK 
To slay at his back 

Till the flight began. 

Oh ! how we scattered 

The foem.en then — 
Slaughtered and scattered 
And chased and shattered, 

By shore and glen ; — 
To the wall of Moyallo, 
Few fled that day, — 
"Will they bar our way 

When we come again ? 

Our dead freres we buried, — 

They were but few, — 
Our dead freres we buried 
Where the dark waves hurried 

And flashed and flew : 
Oh ! sweet be their slumber 
Who thus have died 
In the battle's tide, 

Innisfail, for you ! 

Pushing on for Aherlow — the unwounded of the soldiers 
carrying between them the wounded of the past three days' 
conflict — after a march of thirty miles they reached at length 
that " vast solitude," as Don Philip calls it. They were so 
worn-out by travel and hunger, toil and suffering, that the 
night sentinels posted around the little camp could scarcely 



316 THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 

perform their duty.* The prospect of recruiting strength by 
a few days' repose here had to be abandoned, lest the foes 
now gathering around them might bar all way to the Shannon. 
So next morning, at dawn, having refreshed themselves with 
the only food available, herbs and water, ■\ they set out north- 
ward. On this day one of their severest battles had to be 
fought — a conflict of eight hours' duration. O'Sullivan says 
that, though the enemy exceeded greatly in numbers, they 
were deficient in military skill, otherwise the men of Beara 
must have been overpowered. From this forward the march 
grew every day more painful. Nature itself could not con- 
tinue to endure such suffering. The fugitives dropped on the 
road from utter exhaustion, or strayed away in the wild 
delirious search for food. In many instances the sentries at 
night died at their posts from sheer privation. Arriving at 
Dunnohill, the starving soldiery at once occupy the place. 
The first who arrived ravenously devoured all the food ; those 
who came next, greedily ate everything in the way of corn, 
etc. On by Ballynakill, Sleive Felim, and Lateragh ; each 
day a prolonged strife with foes on all sides. '* It was not 
only," says Don Philip, "that they had to fight against supe- 
rior numbers; but every day O'Sullivan had fresh enemies, 
while his soldiers were being worn out by cold, hunger, and 
incessant fighting." Still they guarded faithfully the women 
and children, and such of the aged as could walk without as- 
sistance ; and maintained, though only by the utmost exertion, 
that strict discipline and precaution to which O'Sullivan 
largely owed his safety on this march. A vanguard of forty 
men always went in front ; next came the sick and wounded, 
the women and children ; next, the baggage and the ammu- 
nition ; and, last of all, protecting the rear, Donal himself 
with the bulk of his little force. On the 6th January, they 
reached the wood of Brosna (now Portland, in the parish of 
Lorha) ; and here Donal orders the little force to entrench 
themselves. Their greatest peril is now at hand. The " lord- 
ly Shannon," wide and deep, is in their front ; they have no 



Hisioriae CathoUcae Iherniae. f Ibid. 



THE STORY OF lEELAND. 317 

boats ; and the foe is crowding behind and around them. 
Donal's resort in this extremity was one worthy of his repu- 
tation as a skilful captain. Of the few horses now remaining 
in his cavalcade, he directed eleven to be killed. The skins 
he strained upon a firmly bound boat-frame which he had his 
soldiers to construct in the wood close by ; the flesh was 
cooked as a luxury for the sick and wounded. In this boat, 
on the morning of the 8th January, he commenced to trans- 
port his little force across the Shannon, from Redwood. As 
he was in the act of so doing, there arrived on the southern 
bank, where the women and children, and only a portion of 
the rear-guard remained, the queen's sheriff of Tipperary and 
a strong force, who instantly " began to plunder the baggage, 
slaughter the camp followers, and throw the women and 
children into the river." * One of O'Sullivan's lieutenants, in 
charge of the small guard which, however, yet remamed, fell 
upon them with such vehemence, that they retired, and the 
last of the fugitives crossed to the Connacht shore. 

But there was still no rest for that hapless compan)^ " The 
soldiers pressed by hunger divide themselves into two bands, 
and alternately sustain the attacks of the enemy, and collect 
provisions." Arriving at Aughrim-Hy-Maine a powerful and 
well ordered army under Sir Thomas Burke, Lord Clanri- 
carde's brother, and Colonel Henry Malby, lay across their 
route. Even Carew himself informs us that the English force 
vastly exceeded the gaunt and famished band of O'Sullivan ; 
though he does not venture into particulars. In truth Donal 
found himself compelled to face a pitched battle against a force 
of some eight hundred men with his wasted party, now re- 
duced to less than three hundred. Carew briefly tells the 
■story, so bitter for him to tell. " Nevertheless, when they 
saw that either they must make their way by the sword or 
perish, they gave a brave charge upon our men, in which 
Captain Malby was slaine ; upon whose fall Sir Thomas and 
his troops fainting, with the loss of many men, studied their 
safety by flight."t The quaint record in the Annals of the 

* Historiac Catholicae 
t Pacata Hibernia, In the next following sentence Carew gives with horrid candor 



318 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

Four Masters is as follows :—" O'SuUivan, O'Conor-Kerry, 
and William Burke, with their small party, were obliged to 
remain at Aughrim-Hy-Many to engage fight, and sustain a 
battle-field.and test their true valor against the many hundreds 
oppressing and pursuing them. O'SuUivan, with rage, hero- 
ism, fury, and ferocity, rushed to the place where he saw the 
Eno-lish, for it was against them that he cherished most ani- 
mosity and hatred ; and made no delay until he reached the 
spot where he saw their chief ; so that he quickly and dexter- 
ously beheaded that noble Englishman, the son of Captain Mal- 
by. The forces there collected were then routed and a count- 
less number of them siain."t Beside Malby and Burke there 
were left on the field by the English " three standard bearers 
and. several officers." It was a decisive victory for the prince 
of Beare ; but it only purchased for him a day's respite. That 
night, for the first time— terrible affliction— he had to march 
forward, unable to bring with him his sick or wounded ! 
Next day the English (who could not win the fight) came 
up and butchered these helpless ones in cold blood ! I sum- 
marize from the Histories Catholicce the following narrative of 
the last days of this memorable retreat: — 

" Next day at dawn he crossed Slieve Muire (Mount Mary) 
and came down on some villages where he hoped to procure 
provisions. But he found all the cattle and provisions carried 
away, and the people of the district arrayed against him, under 
the command of Mac David the lord of the place. He withdrew 
at dusk to some thick woods at Sliebh Iphlinn. But in the night 
he received information that the people intended to suround 
him and cut him off. Large fires were lighted to deceive his 
enemies, and he at once set off on a night march. The soldiers 
suffered exceedingly. They fell into deep snow drifts, whence 
they dragged each other out with great difficulty. " Next 
day they were overtaken by Mac David. But their deter- 

and equanimity, a picture, hardly to be paralleled in the records of savagery:—" Next 
morning Sir Charles (Wilmot) coming to seeke the enemy in their campe, hee en- 
tered into their quarter without resistance, where he found nothing bnt hurt and sick 
men. whose pains and lives by the soldiers were both determined.'''' 
^ Annals of the Four Masters, page 2319. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 319 

mined attitude made their foes retire ; and so they were al- 
lowed to betake themselves to another wood called Diamh- 
bhrach, or the Solitude. Upon entering this refuge, the men, 
overpowered with fatigue, lay down and fell asleep. When 
O'Sullivan halted, finding only twelve companions with him- 
self, he ordered tires to be lighted, in order that his scattered 
followers might know whither to turn upon waking. 

"At dawn of next day numbers of the inhabitants flocked 
to O'SuUivan's bivouac, attracted by the unprecedented 
spectacle of so many fires in such a lonely solitude. They 
furnished him gratuitously with food, and subsequently in- 
formed Oliver Lombard, the governor of Connaught, that the 
fires had been kindled by the herdsmen. Many of the Cath- 
olics were found to suffer very much in their feet, by reason 
of the severity of the weather and the length of the march. 
O'Connor, especially suffered grievously. To give as lono- a 
rest as possible, they remained all this day in the wood ; but 
a night march was necessary for all. This was especially severe 
on O'Connor, as it was not possible that he could proceed on 
horseback. For, since the enemy occupied all the public 
routes and the paths practicable for a horse, they were obliged 
to creep along by out-of-the-way paths, and frequently to 
help each other in places where alone they could not move. 

"A guide was wanted ; but God provided one. A stranger 
presented himself, clad in a linen garment, with bare feet, hav- 
ing his head bound with a white cloth, and bearing a long pole 
shod with iron, and presenting an appearance well calculated 
to strike terror into the beholders. Having saluted O'Sullivan 
and the others, he thus addressed them : ' I know that you 
Catholics have been overwhelmed by various calamities, that 
you are fleeing from the tyranny of heretics, that at the hill 
of Aughrim you routed the queen's troops, and that you are 
now going to O'Ruarke, who is only fifteen miles off; but you 
want a guide. Therefore, a strong desire has come upon me 
of leading you thither.' After some hesitation O'Sullivan 
accepted his offer, and ordered him to receive two hundred 
gold pieces. These he took, ' not as a reward, but as a mark 
of our mutually grateful feelings for each other.' The dark- 



320 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

ness of the night, their ignorance of the country, and their 
unavoidable suspicion of their guide multiplied their fears. 
The slippery condition of the rocks over which th^y had to 
climb, the snow piled up by the wind, their fatigue and weak- 
ness, the swelling of their feet, tormented the unfortunate 
walkers. But O'Connor suffered most of all. His feet and legs 
were inflamed, and rapidly broke into ulcers. He suffered 
excruciating pain; but he bore it patiently for Jesus Christ. 
In the dead of the night they reached a hamlet. Knock Vicar 
{Mons Vicarii) where they refreshed themselves with fire and 
food. But when they were again about to proceed, O'Connor 
could not stand, much less walk. Then his fellow soldiers 
carried him in their arms in alternate batches of four, until 
they found a wretched horse, upon the back of which they 
placed him. At length, when they had passed Cor Sliebh, 
the sun having risen, their guide pointed out O'Ruarke's castle 
in the distance, and having assured them that all danger was 
now passed, he bade them farewell." 

Not unlike the survivors of the Greek Ten Thousand, to 
whom they have been so often compared, who, when they 
first descried the sea, broke from their ranks and rushed for- 
ward wildlv shouting "Thalatta! Thalatta !" that group oi 
mangled and bleeding fugitives — for now, alas ! they were no 
more— when they saw through the trees in the distance the 
towers of Leitrim Castle, sank upon the earth, and for the 
first time since they had quitted Beara, gave way to passion- 
ate w^eeping, overpowered by strange paroxysms of joy, grief, 
suflfering, and exultation. At last— at last !— they were safe ! 
No more days of bloody combat, and nights of terror and un- 
rest! No more of hunger's maddening pangs! No more of 
flight for life, with bleed! no; feet, over rugged roads, with 
murderous foes behind ! Relief is at hand ! They can sleep 
—they can rest. They are saved— they are saved! Then, 
kneeling on the sward, from their bursting hearts they cried 
aloud to the God of their fathers, who through an ordeal so 
awful had brought them, few as they were, at last to a haven 
of refuge ! 

They pushed forward, and about eleven o'clock in the fore- 



THE STOBY OF IRELAND. 321 

noon reached O'Rorke's castle. Here they were gazed upon 
as if they were objects of miraculous wonder. All that gen- 
erous kindness and tender sympathy could devise, was quickly 
called to their aid. Their wounds and bruises were tended 
by a hundred eager hands. Their every want was anticipat- 
ed. Alas ! how few of them now remained to claim these 
kindly offices. Of the thousand souls who had set out from 
Glengarriffe, not one hundred entered the friendly portals of 
Brefny Hall. Only thirty-five came in with O'SuUivan that 
morning. Of these, but one was a woman — the aged mother 
of Don Philip, the historian ; eighteen were attendants or 
camp-followers, and only sixteen were armed men ! About 
fifty more came in next day, in twos and threes, or were found 
by searching parties sent out by O'Rorke. All the rest, ex- 
cept some three hundred in all, who had strayed, perished 
on the way, by the sword, or by the terrible privations of the 
journey. This retreat was the last military achievement of 
Donal O'Sullivan. Some of the greatest commanders in his- 
tory might be proud to claim an enterprise so heroic as their 
best title to the immortality of fame. 




322 THE STOltY OF lEEIAND. 




LI.— HOW THE GOVERNMENT AND HUGH MADE A TREATY OF 
PEACE. HOW ENGLAND CAME UNDER THE SCOTTISH MON- 
ARCHY ; AND HOW IRELAND HOPEFULLY HAILED THE GAELIC 
SOVEREIGN. 

'^. 

HE succeeding year (1603) opened upon a state of gloom 
and incertitude on all hands in Ireland. Like a strong 
man overpowered, wounded, and cast down, after a 
protracted and exhausting struggle, yet still unsub- 
mittmg and not totally reft of strength, the hapless Irish na- 
tion lay prostrate — fallen but unsubdued — unwilling to yield, 
but too weak to rise. The English power, on the other hand, 
was not without its sense of exhaustion also. It had passed 
through an awful crisis ; and had come out of the ordeal victori- 
ous, it is true, but greatly by happy chance, and at best only 
by purchasing victory most dearly. O'Neill was still uncon- 
quered ; and though the vast majority of the lesser chiefs con- 
federated with him in the recent struggle, had been compelled 
to submit and sue for pardon, O'Donnell, O'Ruark, Maguire, 
and O'Sullivan, remained to him ;* and, on the whole, he was 
still master of elements capable of being organized into a for- 
midable power, perhaps to renew the conflict at some future 
favorable opportunity. Elizabeth and her ministers were too 
wise and prudent to allow exultation over their success to 
blind them to the fact that so much of it had been due to for- 
tuitous circumstances, and that 'twere decidedly better, if 
possible, to avoid having the combat tried over again. Mount- 
joy was instructed to "sound" the defeated, but unsubdued 
and still dangerous Tyrone as to terms of peace and submis- 
sion, lest, being hopeless of " pardon" (as they put it), he might 



* " All that are out doe seeke for mercy excepting O'Rorke and O'Sullivan, who is 
now with O'Rorke" — Lord Deputy Mountjoy to the Privy Council, Feb. 26, 1603. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 323 

continue to stand out. Negotiations were accordingly opened 
with O'Neill. " Sir William Godolphin and Sir Garrett 
Moore were sent as commissioners to arrange with him the 
terms of peace," the latter (ancestor of the present Marquis 
of Drogheda) being a warm personal friend of O'Neill's. 
"They found him," we are told, " in his retreat near Lough 
Neagh, early in March, and obtained his promise to give the 
deputy an early meeting at Mellifont." " The negotiations," 
according to another writer, " were hurried on the deputy's 
part by private information which he had received of the 
queen's death ; and fearing that O'Neill's views might be al- 
tered by that circumstance, he immediately desired the com- 
missioners to close the agreement, and invite O'Neill under 
safe conduct to Drogheda to have it ratified without delay." 
On the 30th of March, 1603, Hugh met Mountjoy by appoint- 
ment at Mellifont Abbey, where the terms of peace were duly 
ratified on each side, O'Neill having on his part gone through 
the necessary forms and declarations of submission. The sin- 
gularly favorable conditions conceded to O'Neill show con- 
clusively the estimate held by the English council of their 
victory over him, and of his still formidable influence. He 
was to have complete amnesty for the past ; he was to be re- 
stored in blood, notwithstanding his attainder and outlawry ; 
he was to be reinstated in his dignity of Earl of Tyrone ; he 
and his people were to en]oy full and free exercise of their re- 
ligion ; new " letters-patent" were to issue, regrantmg to him 
and other northern chiefs very nearly the whole of the lands 
occupied by their respective clans. On the other hand, Hugh 
was to renounce once and forever the title of " The O'Neill," 
should accept the English title of " Earl," and should allow 
English law to run through his territories.* Truly liberal 
terms, — generous, indeed, they might under all circumstances 
be called, — if meant to be faithfully kept ! It is hard to think 
O'Neill believed in the good faith of men whose subtle policy 
he knew so well. It may be that he doubted it thoroughly, 
but was powerless to accomplish more than to obtain such 

* Mitchel. 



324 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

terms, Vvhatever their worth for the present, trusting to the 
future for the rest. 

Yet it seemed as if, for the first time, a real and lasting peace 
was at hand. James the Sixth of Scotland, son of the beauti- 
ful and ill-fated Mary, Queen of Scots, succeeded Elizabeth on 
the English throne ; and even before his express declaration 
of a conciliatory policy was put forth, there ran through 
Ireland, as if intuitively, a belief in his friendly dispositions. 
And, in truth, never before did such a happy opportunity 
offer for adjusting, at long last and forever, peacefully and 
amicably, the questions at issue between Ireland and England. 
In James the Irish — always so peculiarly swayed by consider- 
ations of race or kinship — beheld a Gaelic prince, a king of 
the sister kingdom, Scotland, to whom had reverted the king- 
dom and crown of England. Kings of England of the now 
extinct line had done them grievous wrong ; but no king of 
friendly Scotland had broken the traditional kindly relations 
between Hibernia and Caledonia. Taking King James the 
Gael for a sovereign was not like bowing the neck to the yoke 
of the invading Normans or Tudors. As the son of his per- 
secuted mother, he was peculiarly recommended to the friend- 
ly feelings of the Irish people. Mary of Scotland had much 
to entitle her to Irish sympathy. She was a princess of the 
royal line of Malcolm, tracing direct descent from the Milesian 
princes of Dalaradia. She was the representative of many a 
Scottish sovereign who had aided Ireland against the Normans. 
Moreover, she had just fallen a victim to the tigress Elizabeth 
of England, the same who had so deeply reddened with blood 
the soil of Ireland. She had suffered for the Catholic faith 
too ; and if aught else were required to touch the Gaels of 
Ireland with compassion and sympathy, it was to be found in 
her youth and beauty, qualities which, when allied with in- 
nocence and misfortune, never fail to win the Irish heart. It 
was to the son of such a woman — the martyred Mary, Queen 
of Scots — that the English crown and kingdom had lapsed, 
and with these, such claim as England might be held to have 
upon the Irish kingdom. What wonder if amongst the Irish 
the idea prevailed that now at last they could heartily offer 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 325 

loyalty to the sovereign on the English throne, and feel that 
he was neither a stranger nor a subjugator ? 

It was indeed a great opportunity, apparently — the first 
that had ever offered — for uniting the three kingdoms under 
one crown, without enforcing between any of them the humil- 
iating relations of conqueror and conquered. There can be 
no doubt whatever, that, had James and his government ap- 
preciated the peculiar opportunity, and availed of it in a hu- 
mane, wise, and generous spirit, 

" an end was made, and nobly, 

Of the old centennial feud. " 

The Irish nation, there is every ground for concluding, would 
cheerfully and happily have come in to the arrangement ; and 
the simplest measure of justice from the government, a reason- 
able consideration for the national feelings, rights, and inter- 
ests, might have realized that dream of a union between the 
kingdoms, which the compulsion of conquest could never — can 
never — accomplish. But that accurst greed of plunder — that 
unholy passion for Irish spoil — which from the first character- 
ized the English adventurers in Ireland and which, unhappily, 
ever proved potential to mar any comparatively humane de- 
signs of the king, whenever, if ever, such designs were enter- 
tained, was now at hand to demand that Ireland should be 
given up to " settlers," by fair means or by foul, as a stranded 
ship might be abandoned to wreckers, or as a captured town 
might be given up to sack and pillage by the assaulting sol- 
diery. There is, however, slight reason, if any, for thinking 
that the most unworthy and unnatural son of Mary Queen of 
Scots — the pedantic and pompous James — entertained any 
statesmanlike generosity or justice of design in reference to 
Ireland. The Irish expectations about him were doomed to 
be wofuUy disappointed. He became the mere creature of 
English policy ; and the Anglo-Irish adventurers and "settlers," 
yelling for plunder, were able to force that policy in their own 
direction. They grumbled outright at the favorable terms of 
Mountjoy's treaty with O'Neill. It yielded not one acre of 
plunder ; whereas, the teeth of thousands of those worthies had 



326 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

been set on edge by the anticipation of the rich spoils of the 
" confiscated" north, which they made sure would follow upon 
O'NeiU's subjection. "It now seemed as if the entire object of 
that tremendous war had been, on the part of England, to force 
a coronet upon the unwillmg brows of an Irish chieftain, and 
oblige him in his own despite to accept 'letters patent' and 
broad lands 'in fee.' Surely, if this were to be the 'conquest of 
Ulster,' if the rich valleys of the north, with all their woods 
and waters, mills and fishings, were to be given up to these 
O'Neills and O'Donnells, on whose heads a price had so lately 
been set for traitors; if, worse than all, their very religion 
was to be tolerated, and Ulster, with its verdant abbey- 
lands, and livings, and termon-lands, were still to set ' Refor- 
mation' at defiance ; surely, in this case, the crowd of esurient 
undertakers, lay and clerical, had ground of complaint. It 
was not for this they left their homes, and felled forests, and 
camped on the mountains, and plucked down the Red Hand 
from many a castle wall. Not for this they 'preached before 
the state in Christ Church,' and censured the backsliding of 
the times, and pointed out the mortal sin of a compromise with 
Jezabel !' 

Notwithstanding that for a year or two subsequent to 
James's accession, the terms of the treaty of Mellifont were 
in most part observed by the government, O'NejU noted well 
the gathering storm of discontent, to which he saw but too 
clearly the government would succumb at an early opportu- 
nity. By degrees the skies began to lour, and unerring indi- 
cations foretold that a pretext was being sought for his immo- 
lation. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 



327 



Lil._" THE FLIGHT OF THE EARLS." HOW THE PRINCES OF 
IRELAND WENT INTO EXILE, MENACED BY DESTRUCTION 
AT HOME. 




T was not long wanting. 
An anonymous letter was 
found, or was pretended 
to have been found, at the 
door of the council chamber in 
Dublin Castle, purporting to dis- 
close with great circumstantiality 
a conspiracy, of which O'Neill 
was the head, to seize the Castle, to murder the Lord Deputy, 
and raise a general revolt. * The most artful means were re- 



* There seems to have been a plot of some kind ; but it was one got up by the 
secretary of state, Cecil himself ; Lord Howth, his agent in this shocking business, 
inveigling O'Neill and O'Donnell into attendance at some of the meetings. " Artful 
Cecil," says Rev. Dr. Anderson, a Protestant divine, in his Royal Genealogies, a 
work printed in London in 1736, "employed one St. Lawrence to entrap the Earls 
of Tyrone and Tyrconnell, the Lord of Delvin, and other Irish chiefs, into a sham 
plot which had no evidence but his. But these chiefs being informftd that witnesses 
were to be heard against them, foolishly fled from Dublin ; and so t.iking their guilt 
upon them, they were declared rebels, and six entire countte=; in Ulster were at once 
forfeited to the crown, which was what their enemies wanted.''^ 



328 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

sorted to by all whose interest it was to procure the ruin of 
the northern chiefs, to get up a wild panic of real or affected 
terror on this most opportune discovery ! O'Neill well knew 
the nature of the transaction, and the design behind it. The 
vultures must have prey — his ruin had become a state-neces- 
sity. In the month of May, he and the other northern chiefs 
were cited to answer the capital charge thus preferred against 
them. This they were ready to do ; but the government 
plotters were not just yet ready to carry outtheir own schemes, 
so the investigation was on some slight pretext postponed, 
and O'Neill and O'Donnell were ordered to appear in London 
on their defence at Michaelmas. There is little doubt 
that hereupon, or about this time, O'Neill formed and com- 
municated to his northern kinsmen and fellow-victims, the 
resolution of going into exile, and seeking on some friendly 
shorethatsafety which it was plain he could hope for in Ire- 
land no longer. They at once determined to share his fortunes, 
and to take with them into exile their wives, children, relatives 
and household attendants; in fine, to bid an eternal farewell 
to the " fair hills of holy Ireland." The sad sequel forms the 
subject of that remarkable work—" The Flight of the Earls ; 
or the Fate and Fortunes of Tyrone and Tyrconnell," by the 
Rev. C. P. Meehan, of Dublin ; a work full of deep and sorrow- 
ful interest to every student of Irish history. I can but 
briefly summarize here, as closely as possible, from various 
authorities, that mournful chapter in our national annals. " In 
the beginning of September, 1607, nearly four months after 
the pretended discovery of St. Lawrence's plot, O'Neill was 
at Slane with the Lord Deputy, Sir Arthur Chichester ; and 
they conferred relative to a journev, which the former was 
to make to London before Michaelmas, in compliance with a 
summons from the king. While here a letter was delivered 
to O'Neill from one John Bath, informincr him that Ma-uire 
had arrived in a French ship in Lough Swillv." Sir John 
Davis, the attorney-general of that dav, savs : " He. O'Neill, 
took leave of the lord deputy, in a more sad and passionate 
manner than was usual with him. From thence he went to 
Melhfont, and Sir Garrett Moore's house, where he wept 



THE STOEY OF IRELAND, 329 

abundantly when he took his leave, giving a solemn farewell 
to every child and every servant in the house, which made 
them all marvel, because in general it was not his manner to 
use such compliments." On his way northwards, we are told, 
he remained two days at his own residence in Dungannon — it 
was hard to quit the old rooftree for ever ! Thence he pro- 
ceeded hastily (travelling all night) to Rathmullen, on the 
shore of Lough Swilly, where he found O'Donnell and several 
of his friends waiting, and laying up stores in the French 
ship. Amidst a scene of bitter anguish the illustrious party 
soon embarked; numbering fifty persons in all, including at- 
tendants and domestics. With O'Neill, in that sorrowful com- 
pany, we are told, went — his last countess, Catherina, daughter 
of Maginnis ; his three sons, Hugh, Baron of Dungannon, John, 
and Brian ; Art Oge, the son of his brother Cormac, and others 
of his relatives ; Ruari, or Roderic O'Donnell, Earl of Tyrcon- 
nell ; Caffa or Cathbar, his brother, and his sister Nuala, who 
was married to Niall Garve O'Donnell, but who abandoned 
her husband when he became a traitor to his country ; Hugh 
O'Donnell, the Earl's son, and other members of his family ; 
Cuconnaught Maguire, and Owen Roe Mac Ward, chief bard 
of Tyrconnell." " It is certain," say the Four Masters, "that 
the sea has not borne, and the wind has not wafted in modern 
times, a number of persons in one ship, more eminent, illus- 
trious, or noble in point of genealogy, heroic deeds, valor, 
feats of arms, and brave achievements, than they. Would 
that God had but permitted them," continue the old annalists, 
*' to remain in their patrimonial inheritances until the children 
should arrive at the age of manhood. Woe to the heart that 
meditated — woe to the mind that conceived — woe to the 
council that recommended the project of this expedition, with- 
out knowing whether they should to the end of their lives 
be able to return to their ancient principalities and patrimonies." 
'* With gloomy looks and sad forebodings, the clansmen of 
Tyrconnell gazed upon that fated ship, ' built in th' eclipse and 
rigged with curses dark,' as she dropped down Lough Swilly, 
and was hidden behind the cliffs of Fanad land. They never 
saw their chieftains more." * 

* MitcheL 



330 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

They sailed direct to Normandy. On their arrival in France 
the English minister demanded their surrender as " rebels ; " 
but Henry the Fourth would not give them up. Passing from 
France through the Netherlands, they were received with 
marked honors by the Archduke Albert. In all the courts of 
Europe, as they passed on their way to the eternal city, they 
were objects of attention, respect, and honor, from the various 
princes and potentates. But it was in that Rome to which 
from the earliest date their hearts fondly turned — " the com- 
mon asylum of all Catholics," as it is called in the epitaph on 
young Hugh O'Neill's tomb— that the illustrious fugitives 
were received with truest, warmest, and tenderest welcome. 
Every mark of affection, every honorable distinction was con- 
ferred upon them by the venerable Pope, Pius the Fifth, 
who, in common with all the prelates and princes of Christen- 
dom, regarded them as confessors of the faith. In conjunction 
with the king of Spain, the Holy Father assigned to each of 
them a liberal annual pension for their support in a manner 
befitting their royal birth and princely state in their lost coun- 
try. Through many a year, to them, or to other distinguished 
Irish exiles, the Papal treasury afforded a generous and 
princely bounty. 

But those illustrious exiles drooped in the foreign climes, 
and soon, one by one, were laid in foreign graves. Ruari, 
Earl of Tyrconnell,died on the 28th of July, 1608. His brother 
Caffar, died on the 17th of the following September. Maguire 
died at Genoa on his way to Spain, on the 12th of the pre- 
vious month — August, 1608. Young Hugh O'Neill, baron of 
Dungannon ( son of O'Neill ), died about a year afterwards, 
on the 23d September, 1609, in the twenty-fourth year of his 
age. Thus, in the short space of two years after the flight 
from Ireland, the aged prince of Ulster found himself almost 
the last of that illustrious company now left on earth.* Bow- 

* Of all his sons, but two now survived. Conn and Henry, The latter was page 
to the Archduke Albert in the Low Countries, and like his father, was beset by Eng- 
lish spies. When the old chieftain died at Rome, it was quickly perceived the re- 
moval of Henry would greatly free England from her nightmare apprehensions about 
the O'Neills. So the youthful prince was one morning found strangled in his bed at 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 331 

ed down with years and sorrows, his soul wrung with anguish 
as each day's tidings from distant Ireland brought news of un- 
paralleled miseries and oppressions scourging his faithful 
people, he wandered from court to court, " eating his heart", 
for eight years. Who can imagine or describe with what 
earnest passion he pleaded with prelates and princes, and be- 
sought them to think upon the wrongs of Ireland ! " Ha !" (ex- 
claims one of the writers from whom I have been summariz- 
ing), " if he had sped in that mission of vengeance — if he had 
persuaded Paul or Philip to give him some ten thousand 
Italians or Spaniards, how would it have fluttered those Eng- 
lish in their dove-cots to behold his ships standing up Lough 
Foyle with the Bloody Hand displayed.* But not so was it 
written in the book. No potentate in Europe was willing to 
risk such a force as was needed." To deepen the gloom that 
shrouded the evening of his life, he lost his sight, became to- 
tally blind and, like another Belisarius, tottered mournfully 
to the grave ; the world on this side of which was now in every 
sense all dark to him. On the 20th July, 1616, the aged and 
heart-crushed prince passed from this earthly scene to realms 

" — —where souls are free ; 

Where tyrants taint not nature's bliss." 

It was at Rome he died, and the Holy Father ordered him 
a public funeral ; directing arrangements to be forthwith made 
for celebrating his obsequies on a scale of grandeur such as is ac- 
corded only to royal princes and kings. The world, that bows 
in worship before the altar of Success, turns from the falling 
and the fallen ; but Rome, the friend of the weak and the iin- 

Brussels. The murder was enveloped in the profoundest mystery; but no one was at 
a loss to divine its cause and design. Henry had already, by his singular ability, and 
by certain movements duly reported by the spies, given but too much ground for con- 
cluding that if he lived he would yet be dangerous in Ireland. 

* In all his movements on the continent he was surrrounded by a crowd of English 
spies, whose letters and reports, now in the State Paper Office, give minute and 
singularly interesting information respecting his manners, habits, conversations etc. 
One of them mentions that in the evenings, after dining, if the aged prince were 
" warm with wine," he had but one topic ; his face would glow and strikinrr the table, 
he would assert that they would "have a good day yet in Ireland." Alas ! 



332 THE STORY OF lEELAND. 

Eortunate, never measured its honors to nations or princes by 
the standard of their worldly fortunes. So the English, who 
would fain have stricken those illustrious fugitives of Ireland 
from fame and memory, as they had driven them from home 
and country, gnashed their teeth in rage, as they saw all 
Christendom assigning to the fallen Irish princes an exalted 
place amongst the martyr-heroes of Christian patriotism ! 
On the hill of the Janiculum, in the Franciscan church of San 
Pietro di Montorio, they laid the Prince of Ulster in the grave 
which, a few years before, had been opened for his son, beside 
the last resting place of the Tyrconnell chiefs. Side by side 
they had fought through life ; side by side they now sleep in 
death. Above the grave where rest the ashes of those heroes 
many an Irish pilgrim has knelt, and prayed, and wept. In the 
calm evening, when the sunbeams slant upon the stones be- 
low, the Fathers of St. Francis often see some figure prostrate 
upon the tomb, which as often they find wetted by the 
tears oi the mourner. Then they know that some exiled child 
of Ireland has sought and found the spot made sacred and holy 
for him and all his nation by ten thousand memories of min- 
gled grief and glory.* 

There is not perhaps in the elegaic poetry of any language 
any thing worthy of comparision with the "Lament for the Prin- 
ces of Tyrone and Tyrconnell," composed by the aged and ven- 
erable bard of O'Donnell, Owen Roe Mac Ward. In this 



* Some eighteen years ago a horrible desecration well nigh destroyed for ever all 
identification of the grave so dear to Irishmen. The eternal City— the sanctuary of 
Christendom— was sacrilegiously violated by invaders as lawless and abhorrent as 
Alaric and his followers— the Carbonari of modern Europe, led by Mazzini and Gari- 
baldi. The churches wereprofaned, the tombs were rifled, and ihechiirch ofSanPietro 
di Montono was converted by Garibaldi into cavalry stables! The trampling of the 
horses destroyed or effaced many of the tombstones, and the Irish in the city gave up 
all hope of safety for the one so sacred in their eyes. Happily however, when Rome 
had been rescued by France on behalf of the Christian world, and when the filth and 
litter had been cleared away from the desecrated church, the tomb of the Irish princes 
was found to have escaped with very little permanent injury. Some there are, who 
perhaps, do not understand the sentiment — the principle — which claims Rome as be- 
longing to Christendom — not to " Italy," or France, or Austria, or Naples. But in 
truth and fact, Rome represents not only " God's acre" of the world, but is the rt- 
pository of priceless treasures, gifts, and relics, which belong in common to all 
Christian peoples, and which they are bound to guard. 



THE STOBY OF IBEIiAND, 333 

noble burst of sorrow, rich in plaintive eloquence and in all 
the beauty of true poesy, the bard addresses himself to Lady 
Nuala O'Donnell and her attendant mourners at the grave 
of the princes. Happily, of this peerless poem we possess a 
translation into English, of which it is not too much to say 
that it is in every sense worthy of the original, to which it 
adheres with great fidelity, while preserving all the spirit and 
tenderness of the Gaelic idiom. I allude to Mangan's admir- 
able translation, from which 1 take the following passages : — 

O woman of the piercing wail ! 

Who mournest o'er yon mound of clay 
With sigh and groan, 
Would God thou wert among the Gael ! 
Thou wouldst not then from day to day 
Weep thus alone. 
'T were long before, around a grave 
In green Tyrconnell, one would find 
This loneliness ; 
Near where Beann-Boirche's banners wave, 
Such grief as thine could ne'er have pined 
Companionless. 

Beside the wave, in Donegal 

In Antrim's glen, or fair Dromore, 
Or Killilee, 
Or where the sunny waters fall 
At Assaroe, near Erna's shore. 
This could not be. 
On Derry's plains, —in rich Drumclieff, — 
Throughout Armagh the Great, renowned 
In olden years, 
No day could pass, but woman's grief 
Would rain upon the burial-ground 
Fresh floods of tears ! 

O no ! — from Shannon, Boyne, and Suir, 
From high Dunluce's castle walls, 
From Lissadill. 
Would flock alike both rich and poor. 

One wail would rise from Cruachan's halls 
To Tara's hill ; 
And some would come from Barrow side, 
And many a maid would leave her home 
On Leitrim's plains, 



334 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

And by melodious Banna's tide, 

And by the Mourne and Erne, to come 
And swell thy strains ! 



Two prmces of the line of Conn 
Sleep in their cells of clay beside 
O'Donnell Roe ; 
Three royal youths, alas ! are gone, 
Who lived for Erin's weal, but died 
For Erin's woe ! 
Ah ! could the men of Ireland read 
The names these noteless burial stones 
Display to view; 
Their wounded hearts afresh would bleed. 
Their tears gush forth again, their groans 
Resound anew ! 



And who can marvel o'er thy grief, 
Or who can blame thy flowing tears. 
That knows their source? 
O'Donnell, Dunnasava's chief. 
Cut off amid his vernal years, 
Lies here a corse, 
Beside his brother Cathbar, whom 
Tirconnell of the Helmets mourns 
In deep despair — 
For valor, truth, and comely bloom, 
For all that greatens and adorns, 
A peerless pair. 



When high the shout of battle rose 

On fields where Freedom's torch still burned 
Through Erinn's gloom, 
If one — if barely one—o( those 

Were slain, all Ulster would have mourned 
The heroes doom ! 
If at Athboy, where hosts of brave 
Ulidian horsemen sank beneath 
The shock of spears, 
Young Hugh O'Neill had found a grave, 
Long must the North have wept his death 
With heart-wrung tears ! 



THE STORY OF lEELAND. 335 

What do I say ? Ah, woe is me ! 
Already we bewail in vain 
Their fatal fall I 
And Erinn; once the Great and Free 
Now vainly mourns her breakless chain 
And iron thrall ! 
Then daughter of O'Donnell, dry 
Thine overflowing eyes, and turn 
Thy heart aside. 
For Adam's race is born to die. 
And sternly the sepulchral urn 
Mocks human pride ! 

Look not, nor sigh, for earthly throne, 
Nor place thy trust in arm of clay ; 
But on thy knees 
Uplift thy soul to God alone, 

For all things go their destined way 
As He decrees. 
Embrace the faithful crucifix. 
And seek the path of pain and prayer 
Thy Saviour trod ; 
Nor let thy spirit intermix 

With earthly hope and worldly care 
Its groans to God ! 

And Thou. O mighty Lord ! whose ways 
Are far above our feeble minds 
To understand ; 
Sustain us in those doleful days. 
And render light the chain that binds 
Our fallen land ! 
Look down upon our dreary state, 
And through the ages that may still 
Roll sadly on. 
Watch Thou o'er hapless Erinn's fate, 
And shield at last from darker ill 
The blood of Conn ! 

There remains now but to trace the fortunes of O'Sullivan, 
the last of O'Neill's illustrious campanions in arms. The spe- 
cial vengeance of England marked Donal for a fatal distinc- 
tion among his fellow chiefs of the ruined confederacy. He 
was not included in the amnesty settled by the the treaty of 
Mellifont. We may be sure it was a sore thought for O'Neill 
that he could not obtain for a friend so true and tried as O'Sul- 
livan, participation in the terms granted to himself and other 



338 THE STORY OP IRELAND. 

of the Northern chieftains. But the government was inexor- 
able. The Northerns had yet some power left ; from the 
Southern chief there now was nought to fear. So, we are 
told, " there was no pardon for O'Sullivan." Donal accom- 
panied O'Neill to London the year succeeding James's acces- 
sion ; but he could obtain no relaxation of the policy decreed 
against him. He returned to Ireland only to bid it an eter- 
nal farewell! Assembling all that now remained to him oi 
family and kindred, he sailed for Spain A. D. 1604. He was 
received with all honor by king Philip, who forthwith created 
him a grandee of Spain, knight of the military order of St. 
lago, and subsequently Earl of Bearhaven. The king, more- 
over, assigned to him a pension of "three hundred pieces 
of gold monthly." The end of this illustrious exile was truly 
tragic. His young son, Donal, had a quarrel with an ungrate- 
ful Anglo-Irishman named Bath, to whom the old chief had 
been a kind benefactor. Young Donal's cousin, Philip— the 
author of the Historic CatholiccB Ibernice — interfered with 
mediative intentions, when Bath drew his sword, uttering 
some grossly insulting observations against the O'SuUivans. 
Philip and he at once attacked each other, but the former 
soon overpowered Bath, and would have slain him but for the 
interposition of friends ; for all this had occured at a royal 
monastery in the suburbs of Madrid within the precincts of 
which it was a capital offence to engage in such a combat. 
The parties were separated. Bath was drawn off, wounded 
in the face, when he espied not far off the old chieftain, O'Sul- 
livan Beare, returning from Mass. at which that morning, as 
was his wont, he had received Holy Communion. He was 
pacing slowly along, unaware of what had happened. His 
head was bent upon his breast, he held in his hand his gloves 
and his rosary beads, and appeared to be engaged in mental 
prayer. Bath, filled with fury, rushed suddenly behind the 
aged lord of Beara, and ran him through the body. O'Sulli- 
van fell to earth ; they raised him up — he was dead. Thus 
mournfully perished, in the fifty-seventh year of his age, Don- 
al, the " Last Lord of Beare," as he is most frequently styled, 
a man whose personal virtues and public worth won for him 
the esteem and affection of all his contemporaries. 



THE STORY OF lEELAND. 339 

His nephew Philip became an officer in the Spanish navy, 
and is known to literary fame as the author of the standard 
work of history which bears his name, as well as of several 
publications of lesser note. Young Donal, son of the murdered 
chieftain, entered the army and fell at Belgrade, fighting 
against the Turks. The father of Philip the historian (Dermod, 
brother of Donal, Prince of Beare,) died at Corunna, at the ad- 
vanced age of a hundred years, and was followed to .the grave 
soon after by his long-wedded wife. 

" Two pillars of a ruined aisle — two old trees of the land ; 
Two voyagers on a sea of grief; long sufferers hand in hand. 



LIII.— A MEMORABLE EPOCH. HOW MILESIAN IRELAND FINALLY 
DISAPPEARED FROM HISTORY ; AND HOW A NEW IRELAND- 
IRELAND IN EXILE— APPEARED FOR THE FIRST TIME. HOW 
" PLANTATIONS " OF FOREIGNERS WERE DESIGNED FOR THE 
"COLONIZATION" OF IRELAND, AND THE EXTIRPATION -OF 
THE NATIVE RACE. 

HAVE narrated at very considerable length the events 
of that period of Irish history with which the name of 
Hugh O'Neill is identified. I have done so because 
that era was one of most peculiar importance to Ire- 
land ; and it is greatly necessary for Irishmen to fully un- 
derstand and appreciate the momentous meaning of its re- 
sults. The war of 1 599-1602 was the last struggle of the ancient 
native rule to sustain itself against the conquerors and the 
jurisdiction of their civil and religious code. Thenceforth — ' 
at least for two hundred years subsequently— the wars in Ire- 
land which eventuated in completing the spoliation, ruin, 
and extinction of the native nobility, were wars in behalf of 
the English sovereign as the rightful sovereign of Ireland also. 
Never more in Irish history do we find the authority of the 
ancient native dynasties set up, recognized, and obeyed. Nev- 




340 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

er more do we find the ancient laws and judicature undisturb- 
edly prevailing- in any portion of the land. With the flight of 
the northern chieftains all claims of ancient native dynasties 
to sovereignty of power, rights, or privileges disappeared, 
never once to re-appear ; and the ancient laws and constitution 
of Ireland, the venerable code that had come down inviolate 
through the space of fifteen hundred years, vanished totally 
and for ever! Taking leave, therefore, of the chapter of his- 
tory to which I have devoted so much space, we bid farewell 
to Milesian Ireland — Ireland claiming to be ruled by its own 
native princes, and henceforth have to deal with Ireland as a 
kingdom subject to the Scoto-English sovereign. 

The date at which we have arrived is one most remarkable 
in our history in other respects also. If it witnessed the dis- 
appearance of Milesian Ireland, it witnessed the first appear- 
ance in history of that other Ireland, which from that day to 
the present has been in so great a degree the hope and the 
glory of the parent nation — a rainbow set in the tearful sky of 
its captivity — Ireland in exile ! In the beginning of the seven- 
teenth century " the Irish abroad " are first heard of as a distinct 
political element. The new power thus born into the world 
was fated to perform a great and marvellous part in the designs 
of Providence. It has endured through the shock of centuries 
— has outlived the rise and fall of dynasties and states — has 
grown into gigantic size and shape ; and in the influence it ex- 
ercises at this moment on the course and policy of England, 
affords, perhaps, the most remarkable illustration recorded 
outside Holy Writ, of the inevitability of retributive justice. 
To expel the people of Ireland from their own country, to 
thrust them out as outcast wanderers and exiles all over the 
world — to sieze their homes and possess their heritage, will be 
found to have been for centuries the policy, the aim, and un- 
tiring endeavor of the English government. The scheme 
which we are about to see King James prosecuting (Munster 
witnessed its inauguration in the previous reign) has ever since 
haunted the English mind ; namely, the expulsion of the native 
Irish race, and the " planting " or " colonizing " of their coun- 
try by English settlers. The history of the world has no 



THE STORY OF lEELAND. 341 

parallel for such a design, pursued so relentlessly through such 
a great space of time. But God did not more signally pre- 
serve His chosen people of the Old Law than he has preserved 
the Irish nation in captivity and in exile. They have not melt- 
ed away, as the calculations of their evicters anticipated. They 
have not become fused or transformed by time or change. 
They have not perished where ordinary probabilities threat- 
ened to the human race impossibility of existence. Prosperity 
and adversity in their new homes have alike failed to kill m 
their hearts the sentiment of nationality, the holy love of Ire- 
land, the resolution of fulftlting their destiny as the Heraclidas 
of modern history. They preserve to-day, all over the world, 
their individuality as markedly as the children of Israel did 
theirs in Babylon or in Egypt. 

The flight of the earls threw all the hungry adventurers in- 
to ecstasies ! Now, at least, there would be plunder. The 
vultures flapped their wings and whetted their beaks. Prey in 
abundance was about to be flung them by the royal hand. 
To help still further the schemes of confiscation now being 
matured in Dublin Castle, Sir Cahir O'Doherty — who had 
been a queen's man most dutifully so far — was skilfully 
pushed into a revolt which afforded the necessary pretext for 
adding the entire peninsula of Innishowen to the area of 
" plantation." Ulster was now parcelled out into lots, and 
divided among court favorites and clamoring "undertakers;" 
the owners and occupiers, the native inhabitants, being as lit- 
tle regarded as the wild grouse of the hill ! The guilds, or 
trade companies of London, got a vast share of plunder; 
something like one hundred and ten thousand acres of the 
richest lands of the O'Neills and O'Donnells — lands which the 
said London companies hold to this day. To encourage and 
maintain these " plantations," various privileges were con- 
ferred upon or offered to the " colonists ;" the conditions re- 
quired of them on the other hand being simply to exclude or 
kill off the owners, to hunt down the native population as they 
would any other wild game ; and above all, to banish and 
keep out " Popery." In fine, they and their " heirs, executers, 
administrators, and assigns," were to garrison the country — 



342 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

to consider themselves a standing army of occupation in the 
English Protestant interest. 

For two hundred years of history we shall find that " col- 
onized " province, and the " colonists " generally, endowed, 
nursed, petted, protected, privileged — the especial care of the 
English government — whilst the helpless native population 
were, during the same period, proscribed, " dead in law," for- 
bidden to trade, forbidden to educate, forbidden to own pro- 
perty ; for each which prohibition, and many besides to a like 
intent, acts of parliament with day and date, word and letter," 
many be cited. 

So great was the excitement created amongst the needy 
and greedy of all classes in England by the profuse dispensa- 
tions of splendid estates, rich, fertile, and almost at their own 
doors, that the millions of acres in Ulster were soon all gone : 
and still there were crowds of hungry adventurers yelling for 
" more, more." James soon found a way for providing 
" more." He constituted a roving commission of inquiry into 
" defective titles," as he was pleased to phrase it — a peripa- 
tetic inquisition on the hunt for spoil. The commissioners 
soon reported 385,000 acres in Leinster as " discovered," 
inasmuch as the "titles" were not such as ought (iai their 
judgment) to stand in the way of his majesty's designs. 
The working of this com.mission need scarcely be described. 
Even the historian, Leland, who would have been its apologist 
if he could, tells us there were not wanting "proofs of the most 
iniquitous practices, of hardened cruelty, of vile perjury, and 
scandalous subornation, employed to despoil the unfortunate 
proprietor of his inheritance." Old and obsolete claims, wc 
are told, some of them dating as far back as Henry the Sec- 
ond, were revived, and advantage was taken of the most triv- 
ial flaws and minute informalities. In the midst of his plun- 
dering and colonizing James died, 27th March, 1625, and was 
succeeded by his son, Charles. Bitterly as the Irish Cathol- 
ics had been undeceived as to James's friendly dispositions, 
thev gave themselves up more warmly than ever to the be- 
lief that the voung prince now just come to the throne 
would aflford them justice, tolerance, and protection. And 



THE STORY OF lEELAND. 343 

here we have to trace a chapter of cruelest deceit, fraud, and 
betrayal of a too confiding people. The king and his favor- 
ite ministers secretly encouraged these expectations. Charles 
needed money sorely, and his Irish representative, Lord 
Faulkland, told the Catholic lords that if they would present 
to his majesty, as a voluntary subsidy, a good round sum of 
money, he would grant them certain protections or immuni- 
ties, called " royal graces " in the records of the time. " The 
more important were those which provided ' that recusants 
should be allowed to practise in the courts of law, and to sue 
out the livery oftheir lands on taking an oath of civil allegiance 
in lieu of the oath of supremacy ; that the undertakers in the 
several plantations should have time allowed them to fulfil 
the condition of their tenures ; that the claims of the crown 
should be limited to the last sixty years ; and that the inhabi- 
tants of Connaught should be permitted to make a new enrol- 
ment of their estates.' The contract was duly ratified by a 
royal proclamation, in which the concessions were accom- 
panied by a promise that a parliament should be held to 
confirm them. The first instalment of the money was paid, 
and the Irish agents returned home, but only to learn that an 
order had been issued against' the Popish regular clergy,' and 
that the royal promise was to be evaded in the most shameful 
manner. When the Catholics pressed for the fulfilment of the 
compact, the essential formalities for calling an Irish parlia- 
ment were found to have been omitted by the officials, and 
thus the matter fell to the ground for the present."* 

In other words, the Irish CathoHcs were roj'ally swindled. 
The miserable Charles pocketed the money, and then pleaded 
that certain of the "graces" were very " unreasonable." He 
found that already the mere suspicion of an inclination on his 
part to arrest the progress of persecution and plunder, was 
arousing and inflaming against him the fanatical Calvinistic 
section of English Protestantism, while his high-handed asser- 
tions of royal prerogative were daily bringing him into more 
dangerous conflict with his English parliament. To complete 
the complications surrounding him, the attempts to force 

* M'Gee. 



31-1 THE STORY OF IREL.VND. 

Episcopalian Protestantism on the Calvinistic Scots led to 
open revolt. A Scottish rebel army f took the field, demand- 
ing that the attempt to extend Episcopacy into Scotland 
should be given up, and that Calvinistic Presbyterianism 
should be acknowledged as the established religion of that 
kingdom. Charles marshalled an army to march against 
them. The parliament would not vote him supplies — indeed 
the now dominant party in parliament sympathized with and 
encouraged the rebels ; but Charles, raising money as best he 
could, proceeded northward. Nevertheless, he appears to- 
have recoiled from the idea of spilling the blood of his coun- 
trvmen for a consideration of spiritual supremacy. He came 
to an arrangement with the rebel '* Covenanters " granting to 
them the liberty of conscience — nay, religious supremacy — 
which they demanded, and even/'<:r)7V/^their army for a portion 
of the time it was under service in the rebellion. 

All this could not fail to attract the deepest attention of the 
Irish Catholic nobility and gentry, who found themselves in 
far worse plight than that which had moved the Calvinistic 
Scots to successful rebellion. Much less indeed than had been 
conceded to the rebel Covenanters would satisfy them. They 
did not demand that the Catholic religion should be set up 
as the established creed in Ireland ; they merely asked that 
the sword of persecution should not be bared against it : and 
for themselves they sought nothing beyond protection as 
good citizens in person and property, and simple equaUty of 
civil rights. Wentworth, Charles's representative in Ireland, 
had been pursuing against them a course of the most scandal- 
ous and heartless robbery, pushing on the operations of 
the commission of inquiry into defective titles. "He com- 
menced the work of plunder with Roscommon, and as a 
preliminary step, directed the sheriff to select such jurors as 
might be made amenable, 'in case they should prevaricate ;' 
or in other words, they might be ruined by enormoits fines^ 
if tJicy refused to find a verdict for the king. The jurors were 



t Often called "Covenanters," from their demands or articles of confederation in 
the rebellion beinc: called their " solemn league and covenant." 



THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 345 

told that the object of the commission was to find 'a clear 
and undoubted title in the crown to the province of Con- 
naught,' and to make them 'a civil and rich people' by means 
of a plantation ; for which purpose his majesty should, of 
course, have the lands in his own hands to distribute to fit 
and proper persons. Under threats whicli ccjuld not be mis- 
understood, the jury found for the king, whereupon Went- 
worth commended the foreman,' Sir Lucas Dillon, to his 
majesty, that he might be remembered upon the dividing of 
the lands,' and also obtained a competent reward for the judges. 

'* Similar means had a like success in Ma y o and Sligo ; but 
when it came to the turn of the more wealth}^ and populous 
county of Galvvay, the jury refused to sanction the nefarious 
robbery by their verdict. Wentworth was furious at this re- 
buff, and the unhappy jurors were punished without mercy 
for their ' contumacy.' They were compelled to appear in 
the castle chamber, where each of them was fined four thou- 
sand pounds, and their estates were seized and they them- 
selves imprisoned until these fines should be paid, while the 
sheriff was fined four thousand pounds, and being unable to 
pay that sum died in prison. Wentworth proposed to seize 
the lands, not only of the jurors, but of all the gentry who 
neglected 'to lay hold on his majesty's grace ;' he called for 
an increase of the army 'until the intended plantation should 
be settled,' and recommended that the counsel who argued 
the cases against the king before the commissioners should be 
silenced until they took the oath of supremacy, which was 
accordingly done. 'The gentlemen of Connaught,' says Carte 
{Life of Ormo7id, vol. i.), 'labored under a particular hard- 
ship on this occasion ; for their not having enrolled their pat- 
ents and surrenders of the 13th Jacobi (which was what alone 
rendered their titles defective) was not their fault, but the 
neglect of a clerk entrusted by them. For they had paid near 
three thousand pounds to the officers in Dublin for the enrol- 
ment of these surrenders and patents, which was never 
made.' " * 

Meanwhile, as I liave alreadv described, the Scots, whose 

* Haverty. 



346 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

"grievances" were in nowise to be compared with these, had 
obtained full redress by an armed demonstration. It was 
not to be expected in the nature of things, that events, so sug- 
gestive would be thrown away on the spoiliated Catholic 
nobles and gentry of Ireland. Accordingly, we find them 
about this period conferring, confederating, or conspiring, on 
the basis of an Irish and Catholic "solemn league and cove- 
nant" — of much more modest pretentions, however, than 
the Scottish Calvinistic original. Their movement too was 
still more notably distinguished from that demonstration by the 
most emphatic and explicit loyalty to the king, whom indeed 
they still credited with just and tolerant dispositions, if freed 
from the restraint of the persecuting Puritan faction. They 
saw too that the king and the parliament were at utter issue, 
and judged that by a bold coup they might secure for them- 
selves royal recognition and support, and turn the scale 
against their bitter foes and the king's. 

Moreover, by this time the " other Irish nation " — " the Irish 
abroad," had grown to be a power. Already the exiles on 
the continent possessed ready to hand a considerable military 
force, and a goodly store of money, arms, and ammunition. 
For they had "not forgotten Jerusalem," and wherever they 
served or fought, they never gave up that hope of " a good 
day yet in Ireland." The English state-paper office holds 
several of the letters or reports of the spies retained by the 
government at this time to watch their movements; and sin- 
gularly enough, these documents describe to us a state of 
things not unlike that existing at this day, towards the close 
of the nineteenth century ! — the Irish in exile, organized in the 
design of returning and liberating their native land, assessing 
themselves out of their seanty pay for contributions to the general 
fund 1'^ The Irish abroad had moreover, what greatly en- 

* Mr Haverty, the historian, quotes one of these "reports" which as he says, was 
first brought to light in the Nation newspaper of 5th February, 18^9. having been 
copied from the original in the state paper office. It is a list or return of the names 
of the "dangerous" Irish abroad, supplied by one of the English spies. "The list 
begins with Don Richardo Burke, 'a man much experienced in martial affairs, '.and 
'a goodinginiere,' He served-many years under the Spaniards in Naples and the 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 347 

hanced their military inhuencQ—prcsUge. Already, they had 
become honorably known as " bravest of the brave" on the 
battlefields of Spain, France, and the Netherlands. 

Communications were at once opened between the exiles 
and the confederates at home, the chief agent or promoter of 
the movement being a private gentleman, Mr. Roger O'More, 
or O'Moore, a member of the ancient family of that name, 



West Indies, and was the governor of Leghorn for the Duke of Florence. Next, 
• Phellomy O'Neill, nephew unto old Tyrone, liveth in great respect (in Milan), and 
is a captain of a troop of horse.' Then come James Rowthe or Rothe, an alfaros or 
standard-bearer in the Spanish army, and his brother Captain John Rothe, ' a pen- 
sioner in Naples, who carried Tyrone out of Ireland.' One Captain Solomon Mac Da, 
a Geraldine, resided at Florence, and Sir Thomas Talbot, a knight of Malta, and ' a 
resolute and well beloved man,' lived at Naples, in which latter city ' there were 
some other Irish captams and officers.' The list then proceeds. ' In Spam Captain 
Phellomy Cavanagh, son-in-law to Donell Spaniagh serveth under the king by sea ; 
Captain Somlevayne (O'Sullivan), a man of noted courage. These live commonly at 
Lisbonne, and are sea-captains. Besides others of the Irish, Captain DriscoU, the 
younger, sonne to old Captain Driscoll ; both men reckoned valorous. In the court 
of Spaine liveth the sonne of Richard Burke, which was nephew untoe William, who 
died at Valladolid ... he is in high favor with the king, and (as it is reported) is to 
be made a marquis ; Captain Toby Bourke, a pensioner in the court of Spain, another 
nephew of the said William, deceased j Captain John Bourke M'Shane, who served 
long time in Flanders, and now liveth on his pension assigned on the Groyne. Cap- 
tain Daniell, a pensioner at Antwerp. In the Low Countries, under the Archduke, 
John O'Neill, sonne of the arch traitor Tyrone, colonel of the Irish regiment. Young 
O'Donnell, sonne of the late traitorous Earl of Tirconnell. Owen O'Neill (Owen 
Roe), sergeant-major (equivalent to the present lieutenant-colonel) of the Irish regi- 
ment. Captain Art O'Neill, Captain Cormac O'Neill, Captain Donel O'Donel, Cap- 
tain Thady O'Sulhvane, Captain Preston, Captain Fitz Gerrott ; old Captain Fitz 
Gerrott continues serjeant-major, no%y a pensioner ; Captain Edmond O'Mor, Cap- 
tain Bryan O'Kelly, Captain Stanihurst, Captain Corton, Captain Daniell, Captain 
Walshe. There are diverse other captaines and officers of the Irish under the Arch- 
duchess (Isabella), some of whose companies are cast, and they made pensioners. Of 
these serving under the Archduchess, there are about one hundred able to command 
companies, and twenty fit to be colonels. Many of them are descended of gentle- 
men's families and some of noblemen. These Irish soldiers and pensioners doe stay 
their resolutions until they see whether England makes peace or war with Spaine. If 
peace, they have practised already with other soveraine princes, from whom they have 
received hopes of assistance; if war doe ensue, they are confident of greater ayde. 
They have been long providing of arms for any attempt against Ireland, and had in 
readiness five or six thousand arms laid up in Antwerp for that purpose, bought out 
of the deduction of their monthly pay, as will be proved, and it is thought they have 
doubled that proportion by these means.' " 



348 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

chiefs of Leix. With him there soon became associated Lord 
Maguire, an Irish nobleman who retained a small fragment of 
the ancient patrimony of his family in Fermanagh ; his brother 
Roger Maguire, Sir Felim O'Neill of Kinnard, Sir Con 
Magennis, Colonel Hugh Oge Mac Mahon, Very Rev. Heber 
Mac Mahon, Vicar-General of Clogher, and a number of others. 

About May Nial O'Neill arrived in Ireland from the titular 
Earl of Tyrone (John, son of Hugh O'Neill), in Spain, to in- 
form his friends that he had obtained from Cardinal Richelieu" 
a promise of arms, ammunition, and money for Ireland when 
required, and desiring them to hold themselves in readiness. 
The confederates sent back the messenger with information 
as to their proceedings, and to announce that they would be 
prepared to rise a few days before or after All-Hallow-tide, ac- 
cording as opportunity answered. But scarcely was the mes- 
senger despached when news was received that the Earl 
of Tyrone was killed, and another messenger was sent with all 
speed into the Low Countries to (his cousin) Colonel Owen 
(Roe) O'Neill, who was the next entitled to be their leader. 
"In the course of September their plans were matured ; and, 
after some changes as to the day, the 23rd of October was 
finally fixed upon for the rising."* 

The plan agreed upon by the confederates included four 
main features. I, A rising after the harvest was gathered in, 
and a campaign during the winter months. II. A simulta- 
neous attack on one and the same day or night on all the for- 
tresses within reach of their friends. III. To surprise the 
Castle of Dublin, which was said to contain- arms for 12,000 
men. All the details of this project were carried successfully 
into effect, except the seizure of Dublin Castle — the most dif- 
ficult, as it would have been the most decisive blow to strike. "f 
The government, which at this time had a cloud of spies on 
the Continent watching the exiles, seems to have been in utter 
ignorance of this vast conspiracy at home, wrapping nearly 
the entire of three provinces, and which perfected all its ar- 
ragements throughout several months of preparation, to the 

* Haverty, t M'Gee. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 349 

knowledge of thousands of the population, without one trai- 
torous Irishman being found, up to the night for the simulta- 
neous movement, to disclose the fact of its existence. 

On the night appointed, without failure or miscarriage at any 
point, save one, out of all at which simultaneousness of action 
was designed, the confederate rising was accomplished. /// 
one night the people had swept out of sight, if not from exis- 
tence, almost every vestige of English rule throughout three 
provinces. The forts of Charlemont and Mountjoy, and the 
town of Dungannon, were seized on the night of the 22d, by 
Phelim O'Neill or his lieutenants. On the next day Sir Con- 
nor Magennis took the town of Newry ; the M'Mahons pos- 
sessed themselves of Carrickmacross and Castleblayney ; the 
O'Hanlons, Tandragee ; while Philip O'Rielly and Roger 
Maguire raised Cavan and Fermanagh. A proclamation of 
the northern leaders appeared the same day, dated from Dun- 
gannon, setting forth their "true intent and meaning" to be, 
^^not hostility to his majesty the king, nor to any of his subjects, 
neither English or Scotch ; but only for the defence and liberty 
of ourselves and the Irish natives of this kingdom." "A more 
elaborate manifesto appeared shortly afterwards from the pen 
of O' Moore, in which the oppressions of the Catholics for 
conscience sake were detailed, the king's intended graces, 
acknowledged, and their frustration by the malice of the 
Puritan party exhibited ; it also endeavored to show that a 
common danger threatened the Protestants of the Episcopal 
Church with Roman CathoHcs, and asserted in the strongest 
terms the devotion of the Catholics to the crown. In the 
same politic and tolerant spirit. Sir Connor Magennis wrote 
from Newry on the 25th to the officers commanding at Down. 
' We are,' he wrote ' for our lives and liberties. We desire no 
blood to be shed ; hit if you mean to shed our blood, be sure zve 
shall be as ready as you for that purpose.'' This threat of retali- 
ation, so customary in all wars, was made on the third day of 
the rising, and refers wholly to future contingencies ; the 
monstrous fictions which were afterwards circulated of a whole- 
sale massacre committed on the 23d, were not as yet invented, 
nor does any public document or private letter written in 



350 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

Ireland in the last week of October, or during the first days of 
November, so much as allude to those tales of blood and hor- 
ror afterwards so industriously circulated and so greedily 
swallowed."* 

The one point at which miscarriage occurred was, unfortu- 
nately for the conspirators, the chief one in their scheme — Dub- 
lin ; and here the escape of the government was narrow and close 
indeed. On the night fixed for the rising, 23d October, one of 
the Irish leaders. Colonel Hugh MacMahon, confided the design 
to one Owen Connolly, whom he thought to be worthy of trust, 
but who, however, happened to be a follower of Sir John 
Clotworthy, one of the most rabid of the Puritanical party. 
Connolly, who, by the way, was drunk at the time, instantly 
hurried to the private residence of one of the lords justices, 
and excitedly proclaimed to him that that night the castle was 
to be seized, as part of a vast simultaneous movement all over 
the country. Sir W. Parsons, the lord justice, judging the 
story to be merely the raving of a half-drunken man, was on the 
pointofturningConnolly out of doors, when,fortunately for him, 
he thought it better to test the matter. He hurriedly consulted 
his colleague. Sir John Borlase ; they decided to double the 
guards, shut the city gates, and search the houses wherein, 
according to Connolly's story, the leaders of the conspiracy 
were at that moment awaiting the hour of action. Colonel 
Mac Mahon was seized at his lodgings, near the King's Inns ; 
Lord Maguire was captured next morning in a house in Cooke 
Street; but O'Moore, Plunkett, and Byrne, succeeded in 
making good their escape out of the city. Mac Mahon, on being 
put to question before the lords justices in the Castle, boldly 
avowed his part in the national movement ; nay, proudly 
gloried in it, telling his questioners, that let them do what they 
might, their best or their worst, with him, " the rising was 
now beyond all human power to arrest." While the lords jus- 
tices looked astounded, haggard, and aghast, Mac Mahon, his 
face radiant with exultation, his form appearing to dilate with 
proud defiance of the bloody fate he knew to be inevitable for 



•M'Gee. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 351 

himself, told them to bear him as soon as they pleased to the 
block, but that already Ireland had burst her chains ! Next 
day, they found to their dismay that this was no empty vaunt. 
Before forty-eight hours the whole structure of British "col- 
onization" in the North was a wreck. The " plantation " 
system vanished like " the baseless fabric of a vision ;" and 
while the ship was bearing away to England the gallant Mac 
Mahon and his hapless colleague, Lord Maguire — that an 
impotent vengence might glut itself with their blood upon the 
scaffold — from all the towers and steeples in the north joy bells 
were ringing merry peals, and bonfires blazed, proclaiming 
that the spoliators had been swept away, and that the right- 
ful owners enjoyed their own again ! The people, with the 
characteristic exuberance of their nature, gave themselves up 
to the most demonstrative joy and exultation. No words can 
better enable us to realise the popular feeling at this moment 
than Mr. Gavan Duffy's celebrated poem, " The Muster of 
the North :" 

Joy ! joy ! the day is come at last, the day of hope and pride. 
And, see ! our crackling bonfires light old Bann's rejoicing tide! 
And gladsome bell and bugle-horn, from Newry's captured tow'rs, 
Hark ! how they tell the Saxon swine, this land is ours — is OURS ! 

Glory to God! my eyes have seen the ransomed fields of Down, 
My ears have drunk the joyful news, " Stout Phelim hath his own." 
Oh ! may they see and hear no more, oh ! may they rot to clay, 
When they forget to triumph in the conquest of to-day. 

Now, now, we '11 teach the shameless Scot to purge his thievish maw ; 
Now, now, the courts may fall to pray, for Justice is the Law ; 
Now shall the undertaker square for once his loose accounts. 
We '11 strike, brave boys, a fair result from all his false amounts. 

Come, trample down their robber rule, and smite its venal spawn, 
Their foreign laws, their foreign church, their ermine and their lawn, 
With all the specious fry of fraud that robbed us of our own, 
And plant our ancient laws again beneath our lineal throne. 



Down from the sacred hills whereon a saint commun'd with God, 
Up from the vale where Bagnal's blood manured the reeking sod. 
Out from the stately woods of Truagh, M'Kenna's plundered home. 
Like Malin's waves, as fierce and fast, our faithful clansmen come. 



352 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

Then, brethren, on ! — O'Neill's dear shade would frown to see you pause — 
Our banished Hugh, our martyred Hugh, is watching o'er your cause— 
His generous error lost the land — he deemed the Norman true, 
Oh ! forward, friends ! it must not lose the land again in you ! 




LIV. — HOW THE LORDS JUSTICES GOT UP THE NEEDFUL BLOODY 
FURY IN ENGLAND BY A "DREADFUL MASSACRE" STORY. 
HOW THE CONFEDERATION OF KILKENNY CAME ABOU'J". 

® A 

^HE Puritanical party, which ever since Wentvvorth's 
execution had the government of Ireland in their 
hands, began to consider that this desperate condition 
of their affairs rendered some extraordinary resort 
necessary, if the island was not to slip totally and for ever 
from their grasp. The situation was evidently one full of 
peculiar difficulty and embarrassment for them. The national 
confederacy, which by this time had most of the kingdom in 
its hands, declared utmost loyalty to the king, and in truth, as 
time subsequently showed, meant him more honest and loyal 
service than those who now surrounded him as ministers and 
officials. 

Hence it was more than likely to be extremely difficult to 
arouse against the Irish movement that strong and general 
effusion of public feeling in England which would result in 
vigorous action against it. For obviously enough (so reason- 
ed the Puritanical executive in Dublin Castle) that section of 
the English nation which supports the king will be inclined 
to side with this Irish movement; they will call it far more 
justifiable and far more loyal than that of the rebel Scotch 
covenanters; they will counsel negotiation with its leaders, 
perhaps the concession of their demands; in any event they 
will reprehend and prevent any extreme measures against 
them. In which case, of course, the result must be fatal to 
the pious project of robbing the native Irish, and " planting" 
the country with " colonies" of saint!}- plunderers. 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 355 

In this extremity it was discerned that there was barely 
one way of averting all these dangers and disasters— just one 
way of preventing any favorable opinion of the Irish move- 
ment taking root in England — one sure way for arousing 
against it such a cry as must render it impossible for even the 
king himself to resist or refrain from joining in the demand 
for its suppression at all hazards. This happy idea was to 
start the story of an "awful, bloody, and altogether tremen- 
dous massacre of Protestants." 

To be sure they knew there had been no massacre — quite 
the contrary ; but this made little matter. With proper ve- 
hemence of assertion, and sufficient construction of circum- 
stantial stories to that effect, no difficulty was apprehended 
on this score. But the real embarrassment lay in the fact that 
it was rather late to start the thing. Several days or weeks 
had elapsed, and several accounts of the rising had been trans- 
mitted without any mention of such a proceeding as a " whole- 
sale massacre," which ordinarily should have been the first 
thing proclaimed with all horror. The Lords Justices and 
their advisers, who were all most pious men, long and with 
grave trouble of mind considered this stumbling block; for 
it was truly distressing that such a promising project should 
be thwarted. Eventually they decided to chance the story 
any way, and trust to extra zeal in the use of horror narra- 
tives, to get up such a bloody fury in England as would ren- 
der close scrutiny of the facts out of the question.* 

* Several of our recent historians have gone to great pains, citing original docu- 
ments, state papers, and letters of Protestant witnesses, to expose the baseness and 
wickedness of this massacre story; but at this time of day one might as well occupy 
himself in gravely demonstrating the villany of Titus Oates's "informations." The 
great Popish Massacre story has had its day, but it is now dead and gone. The fact 
that there were excesses committed by the insurgents in a few cases — instantly de- 
nounced and punished as violations of the emphatic orders of their leaders promul- 
gated to the contrary — has nothing to say to this question o^ massacre. Let it always 
be said that even one case of lawless violence or life-taking — even one excess of the 
laws of honorable warfare — is a thing to abominate and deplore ; as the Irish confed- 
erate leaders denounced and deplored the cases of excesses reported to them by some 
of Sir Phelim O'Neill's armed bands. Not only did the Irish leaders vehemently 
inculcate moderation, but the Protestant chroniclers of the time abundantly testify that 
those leaders and the Catholic clergy went about putting those instructions into prac- 



856 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

So — albeit long after date — suddenly a terrific outcry arose 
about the awful " massacre " in Ireland ; the great wholesale 
and simultaneous massacre of Protestants. Horrors were 
piled on horrors, as each succeeding mail brought from the 
government oflficials in Dublin " further particulars" of the 
dreadful massacre which had, they declared, taken place all 
over Ulster on the night of the rising. Several of the minis- 
ters in London were in the secret of this massacre story ; but 
there is no doubt it was sincerely credited by the bulk of the 
English people at the time ; and, as might be expected, a sort 
of frenzy seized the populace. A cry arose against the bloody 
Irish Popish rebels. Everywhere the shout was to " stamp 
them out." The wisdom and sagacity of the venerable Lords 
Justices — the pre-eminent merits of their device — were 
triumphantly attested! 

For a time there was a danger that the whole scheme 
might be spoiled — shaken in public credulity — by the in- 
judicious zeal of some of the furnishers of "further par- 



ttce. Leland, tlie Protestant historian, declares that the Catholic priests "labored 
zealously to moderate the excesses of war," and frequently protected the English 
where danger threatened, by concealing them in their places of worship and even under 
their altars ! The Protestant Bishop Burnet, in his life of Dr. Bedel, who was titu- 
lar Protestant Bishop of Dromore at the time, tells us that Dr. Bedel, with the tumul- 
tuous sea of the "rising" foaming around him on all sides in Cavan, enjoyed, both 
himself and all who sought the shelter of his house, " to a miracle perfect quiet," though 
he had neither guard nor defence, save the respect and forbearance of the "insurgents." 
One fact alone, recorded by the Protestant historians themselves, affords eloquent 
testimony on this point. This Bishop Bedel died while the "rising" was in full rush 
around him. He was very ardent as a Protestant ; but he refused to join in, and, 
indeed, reprobated the scandalous robberies and persecutions pursued against the 
Catholic Irish. The natives — the insurgents— the Catholic nobles and peasants— <?« 
masse, attended his funeral, and one of Sir Phelim O'Neill's regiments, with reversed 
arms, followed the bier. When the grave was closed (says the Protestant historian 
whom I am quoting, they fired a farewell volley over it, the leaders crying out : 
''Requiescat in pace, tiliimus Anglorum !" ("'Rest in peace, last of the English"). 
For they had often said that as he was the best man of the English religion, he ought 
to be the last ! Such was the conduct of the Irish insurgents. In no country unfortu- 
nately, are popular risings unaccompanied by excesses ; never in any country, probably, 
did a people rising against diabolical oppression, sweep away their plunderers with 
so/e-cv excesses as did the Irish in 1641. But all this, in any event, has naught to 
say to such a proceeding as a massacre. That was an afterthought of the lords jus- 
tices, as has already been shown. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 357 

ticulars," by whom the thing was a little over-done. Some 
thought twenty thousand would suffice for the number of 
massacred Protestants; others would go for a hundred 
thousand ; while the more bold and energetic still stood out 
for putting it at two or three hundred thousand, though there 
were not that number of Protestants in all Ireland at the 
time. As a consequence, there were some most awkward 
contradictions and inconsistencies ; but so great was the fury 
aroused in England, that happily these little dangers passed 
away smoothly, and King Charles himself joined in the shout 
against the horrid Popish rebellion ! The Engish soldiers in 
Ireland were exhorted to slay and spare not ; additional 
regiments were quickly sent over — the men maddened by 
the massacre stories — to join in the work of " revenge." And, 
just as might be expected, then indeed massacre in earnest 
appeared upon the scene. The Irish had in the very first 
hour of their movement — in the very flush of victory — 
humanely and generously proclaimed that they would seek 
righteous ends by righteous means ; that they would fight 
their cause, if fight they must, by fair and honorable warfare. 
They had, with exceptions so rare as truly to " prove the 
rule," exhibited marvellous forbearance and magnanimity. 
But now the English Puritan soldiery, infuriated to the fierc- 
est pitch, were set upon them, and atrocities that sicken the 
heart to contemplate made the land reek from shore to 
shore. The Covenanters of Scotland also, who had just 
previously secured by rebellion all they demanded for 
themselves, were filled with a holy desire to bear a part in 
the pious work of stamping out the Irish Popish rebellion. 
King Charles, who was at the time in Edinburgh endeavoring 
to conciliate the Scottish parliament, was quite ready to 
gratify them ; and accordingly a force of some two thousand 
Scots were despatched across the channel, landing at Antrim, 
where they were reinforced by a recruitment from the 
remnant of the " colonies" planted by James the First. It 
was this force which inaugurated what may be called " mas- 
sacres." Before their arrival the Puritan commanders in the 
south had, it is true, left no atrocity untried ; but the Scots 



358 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

went at the work wholesale. They drove all the native 
population of one vast district — (or rather all the aged and 
infirm, the women and children ; for the adult males were 
away serving- in the confederate armies) — into a promontory, 
almost an island, on the coast, called Island Magee. Here, 
when the helpless crowd were hemmed in, the Scots fell upon 
them sword in hand, and drove them over the cliffs into the 
sea, or butchered them to the last, irrespective of age or sex. 
"From this day forward until the accession of Owen Roe 
O'Neill to the command, the northern war assumed a ferocity 
of character foreign to the nature of O' Moore, O'Kelly, and 
Magennis." Horrors and barbarities on each side made 
humanity shudder. The confederate leaders had proposed, 
hoped for, and on their parts had done everything to insure 
the conducting of the war according to the usages of fair and 
honorable w^arfare. The government, on the other hand, so 
far from reciprocating this spirit, in all their proclamations 
breathed savage and merciless fury against the Irish; and 
every exhortation of their commanders (in strange contrast 
with the humane and honorable manifestoes of the confeder- 
ates) called upon the soldiery to glut their swords and spare 
neither young nor old, child or women. 

The conduct of the government armies soon widened the 
area of revolt. So far the native Irish alone, or almost ex- 
clusively, had participated in it, the Anglo-Irish Catholic 
Lords and Pale gentry holding aloof. But these latter could 
not fail to see that the Puritan faction, which now constitut- 
ed the local government, were resolved not to spare Catholics 
whether of Celtic or Anglo-Irish race, and were moreover 
bent on strengthening their own hands to league with the 
English parliamentarians against the king. Loyalty to the 
king, and considerations for their own safety, alike counselled 
them to take some decisive step. Everything rendered 
hesitation more perilous. Although they had in no way en- 
couraged, or, so far, sympathized with, the northern rising, 
their possessions were ravaged by the Puritan armies. Fin- 
gal, Santry, and Swords — districts in profound peace — were 
the scenes of bloody excesses on the part of the government 



THE STORY OF IBELA^fD, 350 

soldiery. The Anglo-Irish Catholic nobility and gentry of 
these districts in vain remonstrated. They drew up a mem- 
orial to the throne, and forwarded it by one of their number, 
Sir John Read. He was instantly seized, imprisoned, and 
put to the rack in Dublin Castle ; "one of the questions which 
he was pressed to answer being whether the king and queen 
were privy to the Irish rebellion." In fine the English or 
Anglo-Irish Catholic families of the Pale for the first time in 
history began to feel that with the native Irish, between whom 
and them hitherto so wide a gulf had yawned, their side 
must be taken. After some negotiation between them and 
the Irish leaders, "on the invitation of Lord Gormanstown a 
meeting of Catholic noblemen and gentry was held on the 
hill of Crofty, in Meath. Among those who attended were 
the Earl of Fingal, Lords Gormanstown, Slane, Louth, Dun- 
sany, Trimleston, and Netterville ; Sir Patrick Barnwell, Sir 
Christopher Bellew, Patrick Barnwell of Kilbrew, Nicholas 
Darcy of Platten, James Bath, Gerald Aylmer, Cusack of 
Gormanstown, Malone of Lismullen, Segrave of Kileglan, 
etc. After being there a few hours a party of armed men on 
horse-back, with a guard of musketeers, were seen to ap- 
proach. The former were the insurgent leaders, Roger 
O'More, Philip O'Reilly, Mac Mahon, Captains Byrne and 
Fox, etc. The lords and gentry rode towards them, and 
Lord Gormanstown as spokesman demanded, ' for what 
reason they came armed into the Pale ?' O'More answered, 
' that the ground of their coming thither and taking up arms, 
was for the freedom and liberty of their consciences, the 
maintenance of his majesty's prerogative, in which they 
understood he was abridged, and the making the subjects of 
this kingdom as free as those of England.' "* " The leaders 
then embraced amid the acclamations of their followers, and 
the general conditions of their union having been unanimous- 
ly agreed upon, a warrant was drawn out authorizing the 
Sheriff of Meath to summon the gentry of the county to a 
final meeting at the Hill of Tara on the 24th December."f 

* Haverty. t M'Gee. 



360 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

From this meeting sprang the Irish Confederation of 1642, 
formally and solemnly inaugurated three months subsequent- 
ly at Kilkenny. 






LV. — SOMETHING ABOUT THE CONFLICTING ELEMENTS OF 
THE CIVIL WAR IN 1642-9. HOW THE CONFEDERATE 
CATHOLICS MADE GOOD THEIR POSITION, AND ESTABLISHED 
A NATIONAL GOVERNMENT IN IRELAND. 

't^ljEW chapters of Irish history are more important, none 
^i1 have been more momentous in their results, than that 
f>r^'S which chronicles the career of the confederation of 
c^^ 1642. But it is of all, the most intricate and involved, 
and the most difficult to summarize with fitting brevity and 
clearness for young readers. In that struggle there were not 
two but at least/our or five distinct parties, with distinct, sep- 
arate, and to a greater or lesser degree conflicting, interests 
and views ; partially and momentarily combining, shifting 
positions, and changing alliances; so that the conflict as it 
proceeded was, in its character and component parts, truly 
" chameleonic." As for the unfortunate king, if he was greatly 
to be blamed, he was also greatl)- to be pitied. He was not 
a man of passion, malice, or injustice. He was mild, kindly, 
and justly disposed ; but weak, vacillating, and self-willed ; and, 
under the pressure of necessity and danger, his weakness de- 
generated into miserable duplicity at times. In the storm 
gathering against him in England, his enemies found great 
advantage in accusing him of " Popish leanings," and insinu- 
ating that he was secretlv authorizinsf and encourag-insf the 
Irish Popish rebels — the same who had just massacred all the 
Protestants that were and were not in the newly planted prov- 
ince of Ulster. To rid himself of this suspicion, Charles went 
into the extreme of anxiety to crush those hated Irish Papists. 
He denounced them in proclamations, and applied to parlia- 
ment for leave to cross over and head an army against them 
himself. The parliament replied, by maliciously insinuating 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 361 

a belief that his real object was to get to the head of the 
Irish Popish rebellion, which (they would have it) he only 
hypocritically affected to denounce. 

The newly-settled Anglo-Irish Protestants became from 
the outset of this struggle bitter Puritans ; the old families of 
the Pale mostly remaining royalists. The former sided with 
the parliamentarians and against the king, because they mis- 
trusted his declarations of intolerance against the Catholics, 
and secretly feared he would allow them to live and hold 
possession of lands in Ireland ; in which case there would be 
no plunder, no " plantations." The Covenanting Scots— the 
classes from whom in James's reign the Ulster colonists had 
largely been drawn, had just the same cause of quarrel against 
the Irish, whom the English parliamentarians hated with a 
fierceness for which there could be no parallel. This latter 
party combined religious fanaticism with revolutionary pas- 
sion, and to one and the other the Irish were intolerably 
obnoxious ; to the one, because they were Papists, idolaters, 
followers of Antichrist, whom to slay was work good and 
holy ; to the other, because they had sided with the " tyrant " 
Charles. 

The Catholic prelates and clergy could not be expected to 
look on idly while a fierce struggle in defence of the Catholic re- 
ligion, and in sustainment of the sovereign against rebellious 
foes, was raging in the land. In such a war they could not be 
neutral. A provincial synod was held at Kells, 22d March, 
1642, whereat, after full examination and deliberation, the cause 
of the confederates — " God and the King," freedom of worship 
and loyalty to the sovereign — was declared just and holy. The 
assembled prelates issued an address vehemently denounc- 
ing excesses or severities of any kind, and finally took steps to 
convoke a national synod at Kilkenny on the loth of May fol- 
lowing. 

On that day accordingly (loth of May, 1643), the national 
synod met in the city of St. Canice. " The occasion was 
most solemn, and the proceedings were characterized by calm 
dignity and an enlightened tone. An oath of association, which 
all Catholics throughout the land were enjoined to take, was 



302 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

framed ; and those who were bound together by this solemn 
tie were called the ' Confederate Catholics of Ireland.' A 
manifesto explanatory of their motives, and containing rules 
to guide the confederation, and an admirable plan of provi- 
sional o-overnment, was issued. It was ordained that a gen- 
eral assembly, comprising all the lords spiritual and temporal, 
and the gentry of their party, should be held ; and that the 
assembly should select members from its body, to represent 
the different provinces and principal cities, and to be called 
the Supreme Council, which should sit from day to day, dis- 
pense justice, appoint to offices, and carry on, as it were, the 
executive government of the countr}-. Severe penalties 
were pronounced against all who made the war an excuse for 
the commission of crime ; and after three days' sittings this 
important conference brought its labors to a close."* 

" The national synod did not break up till about the end of 
JNIay, and long before that period the proclamation issued by 
the prelates and lay-lords, calling on the people to take the 
oath of association, had the happiest results. Agents from 
the synod crossed over into France, Spain and Italy, to solicit 
support and sympathy from the Catholic princes. Father 
Luke Wadding was indefatigably employed collecting mon- 
eys and inciting the Irish officers serving in the continental 
armies to return and give their services to their own land. 
Lord Mountgarret was appointed president of the council, 
and the October following was fixed for a general assembly 
of the whole kingdom. "f 

On the 23rd October following the general assembly thus 
convoked, assembled in Kilkenny, " eleven bishops and four- 
teen lay lords represented the Irish peerage ; two hundred 
and twenty-six commoners, the large majority^ of the constit- 
uencies. The celebrated lawyer Patrick Darcy, a member 
of the commons house, was chosen as chancellor, and every- 
thing was conducted with the gravity and deliberation befit- 
ting so venerable an assemblv and so great an occasion." A 
Supreme Council of six members for each province was elect- 

* Haverty t Rev. C. P. Meehan's Confcd. Kilkenny, 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 



863 



ed. The archbishops of Armagh, Dublin, and Tuam, the 
bishops of Down and of Clonfert, Lord Gormanstown, Lord 
IMountgarret, Lord Roche, and Lord Mayo, with fifteen of 
the most eminent commoners, composed this council. 

Such was the national government and legislature under 
which Ireland fought a formidable struggle for three years. 
It was loyally obeyed and served throughout the land ; in fact 
it was the only sovereign ruling power recognized at all out- 
side of two or three walled cities for the greater part of that 




■^ OWEN ROE O'NEILL, 

From a portrait in Flanders, painted from life. 

time. It undertook all the functions properly appertaining 
to its high office ; coined money at a national mint ; appointed 
judges who went circuit and held assizes ; sent ambassadors 
or agents abroad, and commissioned officers to the national 
armies — amongst the latter being Owen Roe O'Neill, who had 
landed at Doe Castle in Donegal in July of that year, and 
now formally assumed command of the army of Ulster. 

While that governing body held together, unrent by trea- 
son or division, the Irish nation was able to hold its crowding 
foes at bay, and was in fact practically free. _ 



364: THE STORY OF IRELAND. 




LVI. — HOW KING CHARLES OPENED NEGOTIATIONS WITH THE 
CONFEDERATE COUNCIL. HOW THE ANGLO-IRISH PARTY 
WOULD " HAVE PEACE AT ANY PRICE," AND THE " NATIVE 
IRISH " PARTY STOOD OUT FOR PEACE WITH HONOR. HOW 
POPE INNOCENT THE TENTH SENT AN ENVOY — " NOT EMPTY. 
HANDED "—TO AID THE IRISH CAUSE. 

HE very power of the confederates," says one of our 
historians, " now became the root of their misfortunes. 
// led the king to desire to come to terms with tJujii, not 

1^ from any intention to do them justice, but with the hope 
of deriving assistance from them in his difficulties : and it ex- 
posed them to all those assaults of diplomatic craft, and that 
policy of fomenting internal division, which ultimately prov- 
ed their ruin. 

The mere idea of the king desiring to treat with them, un- 
settled the whole body of the Anglo-Irish lords and nobles. 
They would have peace with the king on almost any terms 
— they would trust everything to him. The old Irish, the 
native or national party, on the other hand, were for holding 
firmly by the power that had caused the king to value and 
respect them ; yielding in nowise unless the demands specifi- 
cally laid down in the articles of confederation were efficient- 
ly secured. On this fatal issue the supreme council and the 
confederation were surely split from the first hour. Two 
parties were on the instant created — two bitter factions they 
became — the " peace party " or " Ormondists ;" and the " na- 
tional party," subsequently designated the " Nuncionist," 
from the circumstance of the papal nuncio being its firmest 
supporter, if not its leader. 

The first negotiations were conducted on the royal side by 
a plenipotentiary whom the Anglo-Irish lords not only re- 
garded as a friend of the king, but knew to be as much oppos- 
ed as they were themselves to the rebel Puritans — the Marquis 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 365 

ofOrmond, a man of profound ability, of winning manners, 
and deeply skilled in diplomacy. To induce the confederates 
to lay down their arms, to abandon their vantage ground 
in Ireland, and send their troops across to Scotland or Eng- 
land to fight for Charles, was his great aim. In return he 
would offer little more than " trust to the king, when he 
shall have put his enemies down." In the very first negotia- 
tion the compromise party prevailed. On the 15th Septem- 
ber, 1643, ^ cessation of arms was signed in Ormond's tent at 
Sigginstown, near Naas. In this the confederates were com- 
pletely outwitted. They kept the truce ; but they found 
Ormond either unable or unwilling to compel to obedience 
of its provisions the Puritan government generals, foremost 
amongst whom in savagery were Munroe in the north, leader 
of the covenanting Scotch army, and Murrough O'Brien, 
Lord Inchiquin (son-in-law of Sentleger, lord president of 
Munster), in the south. Meanwhile Ormond, as we are told, 
"amused the confederates with negotiations for a permanent 
peace and settlement from spring till midsummer;" time 
working all against the confederates, inasmuch as internal 
division was widening every day. It turned out that the 
marquis, whose prejudices against the Catholics were strong- 
er than his loyalty to the waning fortunes of the king, was 
deceiving both parties; for while he was skilfully procras- 
tinating and baffling any decisive action, Charles was really 
importuning him to hasten the peace, and come to terms with 
the Irish, whose aid was every day becoming more necessarv. 
At this stage, the kmg privately sent over Lord Glamorgan 
to conclude a secret treaty with the confederates. Lords 
Mountgarret and Muskerry met the royal commissioner on 
the part of the confederation, and the terms of a treaty fully 
acceptable were duly agreed upon. I. The Catholics of Ire- 
land were to enjoy the free and public exercise of their relig- 
ion. II. They were to hold and have secured for their use 
all the Catholic churches not then in actual possession of the 
Protestants. III. They were to be exempt from the jurisdic- 
tion of the Protestant clergy IV. The confederates (as the 
price of being allowed to hold their own churches and to wor- 



366 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

ship in their own faith) were to send 10,000 men fully armed 
to the relief of Chester and the general succor of the king. 
Lastly, on the king's part it was stipulated that this treaty 
should be kept secret while his troubles with English malcon- 
tents were pending. The pretence was that Ormond (by this 
time lord lieutenant) knew nothing of this secret negotiation, 
but he and Glamorgan and the king understood each other 
well. On his way to Kilkenney the royal agent called upon 
and had a long sitting with Ormond ; and from Kilkenney^ 
Glamorgan and the confederate plenipotentiaries went to 
Dublin, where, during several private interviews, the lord 
lieutenant argued over all the points of the treaty with them. He 
evidently thought the 10,000 men might be had of the confed- 
erates for less concessions. Meanwhile Charles's fortunes were 
in the balance. Ormond was well-disposed to serve the king, 
but not at the risk of danger to himself. After having fully 
reasoned over all the points of the treaty for several days with 
Glamorgan and the confederate lords, suddenly, one after- 
noon, Ormond arrested Glamorgan with every show of ex- 
citement and panic, and flung him into prison on a charge of 
high treason, in having improperly treated in the king's name 
with the confederates ! A tremendous sensation was created 
in Dublin by the event; Ormond feigning that only by acci- 
dent that day had Glamorgan's conduct been discovered ! 
The meaning of all this was, that on the person of the arch- 
bishop of Tuam, who had been killed a few day previously, 
bravely fighting against some of the marauding murderers in 
the west, there was found a copy of the treaty, which thus 
became public. Ormond saw that as the affair was prema-. 
turely disclosed, he must needs affect surprise and indignation 
at, and disavow it. Of course Glamorgan was softly whis- 
pered to lie still, if he would save the king, and offer no con- 
tradiction of the viceregal falsehoods. With which Glamor- 
gan duly complied. The duped confederates were to bear 
all the odium and discomfiture ! 

It was during the Glamorgan negotiation — towards its 
close — that there arrived in Kilkenny a man whose name is 
indelibly written on the history of this period, and is deeply 



THE STORY OF lEELAND. 367 

engraved in Irish memory — John Baptist Rinuccini, arch- 
bishop of Fermo, in the marches of Ancona, chosen by the 
new pope, Innocent the Tenth, as nuncio to the confederated 
Catholics of Ireland. As the pope, from the first hour when 
the Irish were driven into a war in defence of religion, never 
sent an envoy empty-handed, Rinuccini brought with him, 
purchased by moneys contributed by the Holy Father, be- 
sides 36,000 dollars forwarded by Father Luke Wadding, 
"2,000 muskets, 2,000 cartouche belts, 4,000 swords, 2,000 
pike-heads, 400 brace of pistols, 20,000 pounds of powder, 
with match, shot, and other stores." He landed from his 
frigate, the San Pietro, at ArdtuUy, in Kenmare Bay. He 
then proceeded by way of Kilgarven to Macroom, whither 
the supreme council sent some troops of cavalry to meet him 
as a guard of honor. Thence by way of Kilmallock and Lim- 
erick, as rapidly as his feeble health admitted — (he had to be 
borne on a litter or palanquin) — he proceeded to Kilkenny, 
now practically the capital of the kingdom — the seat of the 
national government — where there awaited him a reception 
such as a monarch might envy. It was Catholic Ireland's 
salutation to the " royal pope." 

That memorable scene is described for us as follows by a 
writer to whom we owe the only succinct account which we 
possess in the English language of the great events of the pe- 
riod now before us : " At a short distance from the gate, he 
descended from the litter, and having put on the cope and pon- 
tifical hat, the insigniaof his office, he mounted a horse capar- 
isoned for the occasion. The secular and regular clergy had 
assembled in the church of St. Patrick, close by the gate, and 
when it was announced that the nuncio was in readiness, they 
advanced into the city in processional array, preceded by the 
standard-bearers of their respective orders. Under the old 
arch, called St. Patrick's gate, he was met by the vicar-general 
of the diocese of Ossory, and the magistrates of the city and 
county, who joined in the procession. The streets were lined 
by regiments of infantry, aud the bells of the Black Abbey 
and the church of St. Francis pealed a gladsome chime. The 
procession then moved on till it ascended the gentle eminence 



368 THE STORY OF IREL^A^TD. 

on which the splendid old fane, sacred to St. Canice, is erected. 
At the grand entrance he was received by the venerable bish- 
op of Ossory, whose feebleness prevented his walking in 
procession. After mutual salutations, the bishop handed him 
the aspersorium and incense, and then both entered the cathe- 
dral, which, even in the palmiest days of Catholicity, had never 
held within its precincts a more solemn or gorgeous assemblage. 
The nuncio ascended the steps of the grand altar, intonated 
the Te Dcum, which was caught up by a thousand voices, till, 
crypt and chancel resounded with the psalmody, and when it 
ceased he pronounced a blessing on the immense multitude 
which crowded the aisles and nave. . . . These ceremonies 
concluded, he retired for a while to the residence prepared 
for him in the city, and shortly afterwards was waited on by 
General Preston and Lord Muskerr}-. He then proceeded on 
foot to visit Lord Mountgarret, the president of the assembly. 
The reception took place in the castle. At the foot of the 
grand staircase he was met b\- Thomas Fleming, archbishop 
of Dublin, and Walsh, archbishop of Cashel. At the end of 
the great gallery. Lord Mountgarret was seated, waiting his 
arrival, and when the nuncio approached, he got up from his 
chair, without moving a single inch in advance. The seat 
designed for Rinuccini was of damask and gold, with a little 
more ornament than that occupied by the president. . . 
The nuncio immediately addressed the president in Latin, and 
declared that the object of his mission was to sustain the king, 
then so perilously circumstanced ; but above all, to rescue from 
pains and penalties the people of Ireland, and to assist them 
in securing the free and public exercise of the Catholic relig- 
ion, and the restoration of the churches and church property 
of which fraud and violence had so long deprived their right- 
ful inheritors." * 

From the very first the nuncio discerned the pernicious 
workings of the " compromise" idea in paralyzing the power 
of the confederacy ; and perceiving all its bitter mischief, he 
seems to have had little patience with it. He saw that the old 



Rev. C. P. Meehan's Confederation of Kilkenny . 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 369 

English of the Pale were more than anxious for a compromise, 
and to this end would allow the astute Ormond to fool them 
to the last, to the utter ruin of the confederate cause. They 
were, however, the majority, and eventually on the 28th of 
March, 1646, concluded with Ormond a treaty of peace which 
was a modification of Glamorgan's original propositions. 

On the character and merits of this treaty turns one of the 
most injurious and mournful controversies that ever agitated 
Ireland. '* A base peace" the populace called it when made 
public ; but it might have been a wise one for all that. In 
the denunciations put forward against it by all who followed 
the nuncio's views, full justice has not been done this memor- 
able pact. It contained one patent and fatal defect — it failed 
to make such express and adequate stipulations for the secu- 
rity of the Catholic religion as the oath of Confederation de- 
manded. Failing this, it was substantially a good treaty un- 
der all the circumstances. It secured (as far as a treaty with 
a double-dealing and now virtually discrowned king might be 
held to secure anything) all, or nearly all, that the Irish Cathol- 
ics expected then, or have since demanded. There can be no 
doubt that the majority of the supreme council honestly 
judged it the best peace attainable, nay wondrously advanta- 
geous, all things considered ; and judging so, it is not to be 
marvelled at that they bitterly complained of and inveighed 
against the nuncio and the party following him, as mad and 
culpable " extremists," who would lose all by unreasonably 
grasping at too much. But the nuncio and the " native " 
party argued, that if the confederates were but true to them- 
selves, they would not need to be false to their oaths — that 
they had it in their power by vigorous and patriotic effort 
to win equality and freedom, not merely tolerance. Above 
all, Rinuccini pointed out that dealing with men like Charles 
the king and Ormond the viceroy, circumstanced as the 
royalist cause then was, the confederates were utterly with- 
out security. They were selling their whole power and posi- 
tion for the "promise to pay" of a bankrupt. 



370 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 



LVII. HOW THE NUNCIO FREED AND ARMED THE HAND OF 
OWEN ROE, AND BADE HIM STRIKE AT LEAST ONE WORTHY 
BLOW FOR GOD AND IRELAND. HOW GLORIOUSLY OWEN 
STRUCK THAT BLOW AT BEINBURB. 




Two months 
afterwards, May 1646, 
Charles, all powerless, 
'H^ fled from the dangers en- 
vironing him in England, and took 
refuge with the Scottish parlia- 
ment. Meanwhile the Scottish 
covenanting marauders in Ulster 
had been wasting the land un- 
checked since the fatal " truce" 
and " peace negotiations" had tied up the hands of the confede- 
rates. The nuncio had early discerned the supreme abilities of 
Owen Roe O'Neill (the favorite general of the national party, 
or " old Irish faction" in the council), and now he resolved to 
strike a blow which might show the country what was possible 
to brave men resolved to conquer or die. He sent northward 



'ti « 



THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 371 

to O'Neill the greater part of the supplies which he had 
brought with him from abroad, and told the Ulster com- 
mander that on him it now lay to open the eyes alike of Puri- 
tan rebels, English loyalists, and half-hearted confederates. 

O'Neill was not slow to respond to this summons. For 
three long years, like a chained eagle, he had pined in weary 
idleness, ignoble "truces" fettering him. At last he was 
free ; and now he resolved to show weak friend and arrogant 
foe how he who had defended Arras, could strike for God 
and liberty at home. 

With the first days of June he was on the march from his 
late " truce" station on the borders of Leinster, at the head 
of five thousand foot and four hundred horse, to attack Mon- 
roe. "The Scottish general received timely notice of this 
movement, and setting out with six thousand infantry and 
eight hundred horse, encamped about ten miles from Armagh. 
His army was thus considerably superior to that of O'Neill 
in point of numbers, as it must also have been in equipments ; 
yet he sent word to his brother. Colonel George Monroe, to 
hasten from Coleraine to reinforce him with his cavalry. He 
appointed Glasslough, in the south of Monaghan, as their 
rendezvous; but the march of the Irish was quicker than he 
expected, and he learned on the 4th of June that O'Neill had 
not only reached that point, but had crossed the Blackwater 
into Tyrone, and encamped at Benburb. O'Neill drew up 
his arm}^ between two small hills, protected in the rear by a 
wood, with the river Blackwater on his right and a bog on 
his left, and occupied some brushwood in front with mus- 
keteers, so that his position was admirably selected. He was 
well informed of Monroe's plans, and despatched two regi- 
ments to prevent the junction of Colonel George Monroe's 
forces with those of his brother. Finding that the Irish were 
in possession of the ford at Benburb, Monroe crossed the 
river at Kinard, a considerable distance in O'Neill's rear, and 
then by a circuitous march approached him in front from 
the east and south. The manner in which the 5th of June 
was passed in the Irish camp was singularly solemn. ' The 
whole army,' sa)'-s Rinuccini, 'having confessed, and the gen- 



372 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

eral, with the other officers, having received the holy com- 
munion with the greatest piety, made a profession of faith, 
and the chaplain deputed by the nuncio lor the spiritual care 
of the army, after a brief exhortation, gave them his bless- 
ing. On the other hand the Scots were inflamed with fierce 
animosity against their foe, and an ardent desire for battle.* 

"As they advanced," says another writer, "they were met 
by Colonel Richard O'Ferral, who occupied a narrow defile 
through which it was necessary for the Scotch troops to 
pass in order to face the Irish. The fire of Monroe's guns, 
however, compelled O'Neill's officer to retire." Lieutenant- 
Colonel Cunningham having thus cleared the pass for the 
Scotch horse, who were commanded by the Lord Viscount 
of Ardes, in the absence of Colonel Monroe, " the whole army 
advanced to dislodge Owen Roe ; but a shower of bullets 
from the 'scrogs and bushes,' which covered O'Neill's infan- 
try, checked him ; and then the Scotch cannon opened its 
fire with little effect; as, owing to the admirable position of 
the Catholic troops, only one man was struck by the shot. 
In vain did Monroe's cavalry charge ; with the river on their 
right and ' a marish bog' on the left, it was hopeless to think 
of stirring the confederates. For four hours did the Fabius 
of his country amuse the enemy with skirmishing. During 
all that time the wind rolling the smoke of Monroe's musket- 
ry and cannon in the face of the Irish ranks, concealed the 
adverse ranks from their sight, and the sun had shone all day 
in their eyes, blinding them with its dazzling glare ; but that 
sun was now descending, and producing the same effect on the 
Scotch, when Monroe perceived the entire of the Irish army 
making ready for a general assault with horse and foot. 

" It was the decisive moment. The Irish general, throwing 
himself into the midst of his men, and pointing out to them that 
retreat must be fatal to the enemy, ordered them to pursue 
vigorously, assuring them of victory. ' I myself,' said he, 
' with the aid of heaven, will lead the way ; let those who 
fail to follow me remember that they abandon their general.' 

* Haverty. 



THE STORY OP lEELAND. 373 

This address was received with one unanimous shout by the 
army. The colonels threw themselves from their horses, to 
cut themselves off from every chance of retreat, and charged 
with incredible impetuosity.' 

" Monroe had given orders to a squadron of horse to break 
through the columns of the Irish foot as they advanced; but 
that squadron became panic-stricken, and retreated disorderly 
through their own foot, pursued by O'Neill's cavalry. Never- 
theless, Monroe's infantry stood firm and received the Irish, 
body to body, with push of pike, till at last the cavalry re- 
serve, being routed in a second charge, fell pell mell amongst 
his infantry, which, being now broken and disordered, had no 
way to retreat but over the river which lay in their front." 

" The Scots now fled to the river," says another historian ; 
" but O'Neill held possession of the ford, and the flying mass- 
es were driven into the deep water where such numbers per- 
ished that tradition says, one might have crossed over dry- 
shod on the bodies. Monroe himself fled so precipitately that 
his hat, sword, and cloak, were among the spoils, and he halt- 
ed not till he reached Lisburn. Lord Montgomery was taken 
prisoner, with twenty-one officers and about one hundred 
and fifty soldiers ; and over three thousand of the Scots were 
left on the field besides those killed in the pursuit, which was 
resumed next morning. All the Scotch artillery, tents, and 
provisions, with a vast quantity of arms, and ammunition, and 
thirty-two colors, fell into the hands of the Irish, who, on their 
side, had only seventy men killed, and two hundred wounded." 

Father Hartigan, one of the army chaplains, was sent to 
bear the glad news of this victory to the nuncio at Limerick, 
taking with him the trophies captured from the enemy. He 
arrived on Saturday, 13th of June, and his tidings flung the 
queen city of the Shannon into ecstacies of jubilation. " On 
the following day (Sunday) at four o'clock, p. m., all the troops 
. in garrison at Limerick assembled before the church of St. 
Francis, where the nuncio had deposited thirty-two standards 
taken by the Irish general from the Scotch. These trophies 

* Rev. P. Meehan's Confederation of Kilkenny, 



37-i THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

were then borne in solemn procession by the chiefs of the 
nobility, followed by the nuncio, the archbishop of Cashel, 
and the bishops of Limerick, Clonfert, and Ardfert. After 
these came the supreme council, the mayor and the magis- 
trates, with the entire population of the city. The procession 
moved on till it reached St. Mary's cathedral, where the Te 
Dcuvi was chanted, and on the next day a mass of thanksgiving 
was offered to the Lord, 'who fought among the valiant ones, 
and overthrew the nations that were assembled against them' 
to destro}' the sanctuary.' " 

Mr. Aubrey de Vere, who is never truer poet, never more 
nobly inspired, than when the victory of an O'Neill is to be 
sung, gives us the following splendid chant of Beinburb : 

At midnight I gazed on the moonless skies ; 
There ghsten'd, 'mid other star blazonries, 
A sword all stars ; then heaven, I knew, 
Hath holy work for a sword to do. 
Be true, ye clansmen of Nial ! Be true ! 

At morning I look'd as the sun uprose 

On the fair hills of Antrim, late white with snows; 

Was it morning only that dyed them red ? 

Martyr'd hosts methought had bled 

On their sanguine ridges for years not few ! 

Ye clansmen of Conn, this day be true ! 

There is felt once more on the earth 

The step of a kingly man : 
Like a dead man hidden he lay from his birth 

Exiled from his country and clan. 

This day his standard he flingeth forth ; 

He tramples the bond and ban : 
Let them look in his face that usurp'd his hearth J 

Let them vanquish him, they who can ! 

Owen Roe, our own O'Neill ! 

He treads once more our land ! 
The sword in his hand is of Spanish steel ! 

But the hand is an Irish hand ! 



Montgomery, Conway ! base-born crew ! 
This day ye shall learn an old lesson anew ! 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 375 

Thou art red with sunset this hour, Blackwater ; 
But twice ere now thou wert red with slaughter ! 
Another O'Neill by the ford they met ; 
And " the bloody loaming" men name it yet ! 

Owen Roe, our own O'Neill — 

He treads once more our land ! 

The sword in his hand is of Spanish steel, 

But the hand is an Irish hand ! 

The storm of battle rings out ! On ! on ! 

Shine well in their faces, thou setting sun ! 

The smoke grows crimson : from left to right 

Swift flashes the spleenful and racing light ; 

The horses stretched forward with belly to ground : 

On ! on ! like a lake which has burst its bound. 

Through the clangor of brands rolls the laughter of cannon ! 

Wind-borne it shall reach thine old walls, Dungannon. 

Our widow'd cathedrals an ancient strain 

To-morrow triumphant shall chant again, 

On ! on ! This night on thy banks, Lough Neagh, 

Men born in bondage shall couch them free. 

On ! warriors, launched by a warrior's hand ! 

Four years ye were leash'd in a brazen band ; 

He counted your bones, and he meted your might, 

This hour he dashes you into the fight ! 

Strong Sun of the battle !— great chief, whose eye 

Wherever it gazes makes victory — 

This hour thou shalt see them do or die ! 

Owen Roe, our own O'Neill — 

He treads once more our land ! 
The sword in his hand is of Spanish steel, 

But the hand is an Irish hand ! 

Through the dust and the mist of the golden west. 

New hosts draw nigh : — is it friend or foe ? 
They come ! They are ours ! Like a cloud their vanguard lours ! 

No help from thy brother this day, Monro ! 
They form : there stand they one moment, still — 

Now, now they charge under banner and sign : 
They breast, unbroken, the slope of the hill : 

It breaks before them, the invader's line ! 
Their horse and their foot are crushed together 

Like harbor-locked ships in the winter weather. 
Each dashed upon each, the churn'd wave strewing 
With wreck upon wreck, and ruin on ruin. 
The spine of their battle gave way with a yell : 
Down drop their standards ! that cry was their knell ! 



376 THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 

Some on the bank, and some in the river, 
Strugghng they he that shall rally never. 

'T was God fought for us ! with hands of might 
From on high He kneaded and shaped the fight. 
To Him be the praise ; what He wills must be : 
With Him is the future : for blind are we. 
Let Ormond at will make terms or refuse them ; 
Let Charles the confederates win or lose them ; 
Uplift the old faith, and annul the old strife 
Or cheat us, and forfeit his kingdom and hfe; 
Come hereafter what must or may, 
Ulster, thy cause is avenged to day ! 
What fraud took from us and force, the sword 
That strikes in daylight makes ours restored. 

Owen Roe, our own O'Neill — 
He treads once more our land ! 

The sword in his hand is of Spanish steel. 
But the hand is an Irish hand ! 




THE STORY OF IRELAND. 377 




LVIII.— HOW THE KING DISAVOWED THE TREATY, AND THE 
IRISH REPUDIATED IT. HOW THE COUNCIL BY A WORSE 
BLUNDER CLASPED HANDS WITH A SACRILEGIOUS MURDER- 
ER, AND INCURRED EXCOMMUNICATION. HOW AT LENGTH 
THE ROYALISTS AND CONFEDERATES CONCLUDED AN HONOR- 
ABLE PEACE. 

LATED by this great victory, that party in the confed- 
eration of which O'Neill was the military favorite, 
and the nuncio the head, now became outspoken and 

^^ vehement in their denunciations of the temporizers. 
And opportunely for them came the news from England 
that the miserable Charles, on finding that his commission to 
Glamorgan had been discovered, repudiated and denied the 
whole transaction, notwithstanding the formal commission 
duly signed and sealed by him, exhibited to the confederate 
council by his envoy ! Ormond, nevertheless, as strongly 
exhorted the *' peace party " to hold firm, and to consider for 
the hard position of the king, which compelled him to pre- 
varicate ! But the popular spirit was aroused, and Rinuccini, 
finding the tide with him, acted with a high hand against the 
" Ormondists," treating them as malcontents, even arresting 
and imprisoning them as half-traitors, whereas, howsoever 
wrong their judgment and halting their action, they were the 
(majority of the) lawfully elected government of the confeder- 
ation. 

New elections were ordered throughout the country for a 
new general assembly, which accordingly met at Kilkenny, 
loth January, 1647. This body by an overwhelming major- 
ity condemned the peace as invalid a& initio, inasmuch as it 
notably fell short of the oath of federation ; but the conduct 
of the commissioners and majority of the council was gener- 
ously, and indeed justly, declared to have been animated by 
good faith and right intentions. The feuds, however, were 



378 THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 

but superficially healed ; discord and suspicion caused the 
confederate generals, according as they belonged to the con- 
flicting parties — the " Pale English" or the "native Irish" — 
to fear each other as much as the Puritan enemy. Meanwhile 
an Irish Attila was drenching Munster in blood— Morrough 
O'Brien, Lord Inchiquin, called to this day in popular tradi- 
tions " Morrough of the Burnings," from the fact that the fir- 
mament over his line of march was usually blackened by the 
smoke of his burnings and devastations.* One monster mas- 
sacre on his part filled all the land with horror. He besieged 
and stormed Cashel. The women and children took refuge 
in the grand cathedral on the rock, the ruins of which still 
excite the tourist's admiration. " Inchiquin poured in volleys 
of musket balls through the doors and windows, unmoved by 
the piercing shrieks of the crowded victims within, and then 
sent in his troopers to finish with pike and sabre the work 
w^hich the bullets had left incomplete. The floor was encum- 
bered with piles of mangled bodies, and tzvcnty priests who 
had sought shelter under the altars were dragged forth and 
slaughtered with a fury which the mere extinction of life could 
not half appease." f Ere the horror excited by this hideous 
butchery had died away, the country heard with consterna- 
tion that the Supreme Council of the Confederation had con- 
cluded a treaty with Inchiquin, as a first step towards securing 
his alliance. In vain the nuncio and the bishops protested 
against alliance or union with the man whose hands were still 
wet and red with the blood of anointed priests, massacred at 
the altar ! The majority of the council evidently judged — 
sincerely, it may be credited — that under all the circumstances 
it was a substantial good to make terms with, and possibly 

* This dreadful man was one of the first and bitterest fruits of the "Court of 
Wards" scheme, which in the previous reign was appointed for the purpose of seizing 
the infant children of the Catholic nobility, and bringing them up in hatred and hor- 
ror of the faith of their fathers. O'Brien had been thus seized when a child, and 
thus brought up by the " Court of Wards"— to what purpose has just been illustrat- 
ed. It would hardly be fair to the English to say such a scheme had no parallel; 
for history records that ///(• Turks used to seize the children of the subject Christians, 
and train them up to be the bloodiest in fury against their own race and creed ! 

t Haverty. 



THE STORY OF mELAND. 379 

draw over to the royal cause, a foe so powerful. The bishops 
did not look on the question thus ; nor did the lay (native) 
Irish leaders. The former recoiled in horror from communion 
with a sacrilegious murderer ; the latter, to like aversion 
joined an absolute suspicion of his treachery, and time justi- 
fied their suspicions. The truce nevertheless was signed at 
Dungarvan on the 20th of May, 1648. Fully conscious that 
the nuncio and the national party would resist such an unholy 
pact, the contracting parties bound themselves to unite their 
forces against whomsoever would assail it. Accordmgly 
Preston, the favorite general of the *• Ormondist" Confeder- 
ates, joined his troops to those of Inchiquin to crush O'Neill, 
whom with good cause they feared most. Five days after 
the " league with sacrilege and murder" was signed, the nun- 
cio published a sentence of excommunication against its abet- 
tors, and an interdict against all cities and towns receiving it. 
Having posted this proclamation on the gates of the cathedral, 
he made his escape from the city, and repaired to the camp 
of O'Neill, at Maryboro.' Four months of wild confused con- 
flict — all the old actors, with barely a few exceptions, having 
changed sides or allies — were ended in September, by the ar- 
rival of Ormond at Cork— (he had fled to France after an un- 
accountable if not traitorous surrender of Dublin to the Puri- 
tans) — expressing willingness to negotiate anew with the 
confederation on the part of the king and his friends, on the 
basis of Glamorgan's /ri-^ treaty. Four months subsequently 
— on the 17th January, 1649 — this treaty, fully acceptable to 
all parties, was finally ratified and published amidst great re- 
joicings ; and the seven years' war was brought to an end ! 

Ormond and his royal master had wasted four years in vain, 
hesitating over the one clause which alone it may be said was at 
issue between them and the Irish national party — that one 
simply securing the CathoHc religion against proscription and 
persecution, and stipulating the restriction of further spoliation 
of the churches. Itssimple justice was fully conceded in the 
end. Too late! Scarcely had the rejoicings over the happy 
peace, or rather the alliance between the English, Scotch, and 
Irish royalists. Catholic and Protestant, ceased in Ireland, when 



380 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

newsof the king's death in London shocked the land. Charles, 
:is already mentioned, had flung himself upon the loyalty of 
the Scottish parliament, in which the Lowland covenanting 
element predominated. His rebellious subjects on the south- 
ern side of the border, thirsting for his blood, offered to buy 
him from the Scots. After a short time spent in haggling 
over the bargain, those canny saints sold the unfortunate 
Charles for a money price of four hundred thousand pounds 
— an infamy for which the world has not a parallel. The 
blood-money was duly paid, and the English bore their king 
to London where they murdered him publicly at Whitehall 
on the 30th January, 1649. 

A few weeks after this event the uncompromising and true- 
hearted, but impetuous and imperious nuncio, Rinuccini, bade 
adieu to the hapless land into whose cause he had entered 
heart and soul, but whose distractions prostrated his warm 
hopes. He sailed from Galway for home, in his ship the Sa7i 
Pietro, on the 23d February, 1649. 

And now, while the at-length united confederates and royal- 
ists are proclaiming the young Prince of Wales as king through- 
out Ireland, lo ! the huge black shadovy of a giant destroyer 
near at hand is flung across the scene ! 



-e^: 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 381 



r-' 



LIX. — HOW CROMWELL LED THE PURITAN REBELS INTO 
IRELAND. HOW IRELAND BY A LESSON TOO TERRIBLE TO 
BE FORGOTTEN WAS TAUGHT THE DANGER OF TOO MUCH 
LOYALTY TO AN ENGLISH SOVEREIGN. 

T is the figure of the great Regicide that looms up at this 
^1 period, like a huge colossus of power and wrath. The 
§^P English nation caused Oliver Cromwell's body to be 
S [^ disinterred and hung in chains, and buried at the gal- 
lows foot. Even in our own day that nation, I believe, refuses 
to him a place amidst the statues of its famous public men, set 
up in the legislative palace at Westminster. If England hon- 
ored none of her heroes who were not £ood a.s well as great ^ 
this would be more intelligible and less inconsistent. She 
gave birth to few greater men, whose greatness is judged apart 
from virtue ; and, if she honors as her greatest philosopher and 
moralist the corrupt and venal lord chancellor Bacon, de- 
graded for selling his decisions to the highest bribe, it is the 
merest squeamishness to ostracise the "Great Protector," be- 
cause one king was among his murdered victims. 

England has had for half a thousand years few sovereign 
rulers to compare in intellect with this "bankrupt brewer of 
Huntingdon." She owes much of her latter day European 
prestige to his undoubted national spirit ; for, though a despot, 
a bigot, and a canting hypocrite, he was a thorough nationalist 
as an Englishman. And she owes not a little of her consti- 
tutional liberty to the democratic principles with which the 
republican party, on whose shoulders he mounted to power, 
leavened the nation. 

In 1649, the Puritan revolution had consumed all opposition 
in England ; but Ireland presented an inviting field for what 
the Protector and his soldiery called " the work of the Lord." 
There their passions would ho, fully aroused ; and there their 



382 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

vengeance would have full scope. To pull down the throne, 
and cut off Charles' head, was, after all (according to- their 
ideas), overthrowing only a political tyranny and an episco- 
pal dominance amongst their own fellow countrymen and fel- 
low Protestants. But in Ireland there was an idolatrous 
people to be put to the sword, and their fertile country to be 
possessed. Glory halleluja ! The bare prospect of a cam- 
paign tJiere threw all the Puritan regiments into ecstasies. It 
was the summons of the Lord to His chosen people to cross 
the Jordan and enter the promised land ! 

In this spirit Cromwell came to Ireland, landing at Dublin 
on the 14th August, 1649, He remained nine months. Nev- 
er, perhaps, in the same space of time, had one man more of 
horror and desolation to show for himself. It is not for any 
of the ordinary severities of war that Cromwell's name is in- 
famous in Ireland. War is no child's play, and those who 
take to it must not wail if its fair penalties fall upon them ever 
so hard and heavy. If Cromwell, therefore, was merel}^ a vi- 
gorous and " thorough " soldier, it would be unjust to cast 
special odium upon him. To call him " savage " because the 
slain of his enemies in battle might have been enormous in 
amount, would be simply contemptible. But it is for a far 
different reason Cromwell is execrated in Ireland. It is for 
such butcheries of the unarmed and defenceless non-combat- 
ants — the ruthless slaughter of inoffensive women and children 
— as Drogheda and Wexford witnessed, that he is justly re- 
garded as a bloody and brutal tyrant. Bitterly, bitterly, did 
the Irish people pay for their loyalty to the English sovereign ; 
an error they had just barely learned to commit, although 
scourged for centuries by England compelling them thereto ! 
I spare myself the recital of the horrors of that time. Yet it is 
meet to record the fact that not even before the terrors of such 
a man did the Irish exhibit a craven or cowardly spirit. Un- 
happily for their worldly fortunes, if not for their fame, they 
were high-spirited and unfearing, where pusillanimity would 
certainly have been safety, and might have been only prudence. 
Owen Roe O'Neill was struck down by death early in the strug- 
gle, and by the common testimony of friend and foe, in him 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 383 

the Irish lost the only military leader capable of coping with 
Cromwell.* Nevertheless, with that courage which unflinch- 
ingly looks ruin in the face, and chooses death before dishonor, 
the Irish fought the issue out. At length, after a fearful and 
bloody struggle of nearly three years' duration, " on the 12th 
May, 1652, the Leinster army of the Irish surrendered on terms 
signed at Kilkenny, which were adopted successively by the 
other principal armies between that time and the September 
following, when the Ulster forces surrendered." 



LX. — THE AGONY OF A NATION. 



SI 




HAT ensued upon the Cromwellian conquest of Ireland 
has been told recently in a book written under most 
singular circumstances — a compilation from state rec- 
ords and official documents — a book which the reader 
may take in his hand and challenge the wide world for another 
such true story. 

About one-and-twenty years ago an Irish professional gen- 
tleman, a member of the bar, a Protestant, educated in England, 
belonging to one of those noble Anglo-Norman families who 
early indentified themselves in sympathy with Ireland as the 
country of their adoption, "received a commission from 
England to make some pedigree researches in Tipperary." 
He was well qualified for a task which enlisted at once the 
abihties of a jurist and the attainments of an archaeologist. 
By inclination and habit far removed from the stormy atmos- 
phere of politics, his life had been largely devoted to the 



* He died 6th November, 1649, at Cloughoughter Castle, county Cavan, on his 
way southward to effect a junction with Ormond for a campaign against Cromwell. 
He was buried in the cemetery of the Franciscan convent in the town of Cavan. A 
popular tradition, absurdly erroneous, to the effect that he died by poison—" having 
danced in poisoned slippers"— has been adopted by Davis in his "Lament for the death 
of Owen Roe." The story, however, is quite apocryphal. 



384 THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 

tranquil pursuits of study at home or in other lands. His lit- 
erary ^nd philosophic tastes, his legal schooling, and above 
all his professional experience, which in various occupations 
had brought him largely into contact with the practical reali- 
ties of life in Ireland, all tended to give him an interest in the 
subject thus committed to his investigations. His client little 
thought however — for a long time he Httle dreamt himself — 
that to the accident of such a commission would be traceable 
the existence subsequently of one of the most remarkable 
books ever printed in the English language — " The Crorawel- 
lian Settlement of Ireland," by Mr. John P. Prendergast. 

It would be hopeless to attempt to abbreviate or summarize 
the startling romance, the mournful tragedy of history — " the 
record of a nation's woes" — which Mr. Prendergast, as he tells 
us, discovered in the dust-covered cell of that gloomy tower 
in Dublin Castle yard, apparently the same that once was the 
dungeon of Hugh Roe O'DonnelL* I therefore relinquish all 



* "I now thought of searching theRecord Commissioners' Reports, and found there 
were several volumes of the very date required, 1650 — 1659, in the custody of the 
clerk of the privy council, preserved in the heavily embattled tower which forms the 
most striking feature of the Castle of Dublin. They were only accessible at that 
day through the order of the lord lieutenant or chief secretary for Ireland. I obtain- 
ed, at length, in the month of September, i849,[an order. It may be easily imagined 
with what interest I followed the porter up the dark winding stone staircase of this 
gloomy tower, once the prison of the castle, and was ushered into a small central 
space that seemed dark, even after the dark stairs we had just left. As the eye be- 
came accustomed to the spot, it appeared that the doors of five cells made in the 
prodigious thickness of the tower walls, opened on the central space. From one of 
them Hugh Roe O'Donel is said to have escaped, by getting down the privy of his 
cell to the Poddle River that runs around the base of the tower. The place was cov- 
ered with the dust of twenty years; but opening a couple of volumes of the statutes — one 
as a clean spot to place my coat upon, and the other to sit on — I took my seat in the 
the cell exactly opposite to the one just mentioned, as it looked to the south over the 
castle garden, and had better light. In this tower I found a series of Order Books 
of the Commissioners of the Parliament of the Commonwealth of England for the af- 
fairs of Ireland, together with domestic correspondence and Books of Establishments 
from 1650 to 1659. They were marked on the back by the letter A over a number, 
as will be observed in the various references in the notes to the present sketch. 
Here I found the records of a nation's woes. I felt that I had at last reached the ha- 
ven I had been so long seeking. There I sat, extracting, for many weeks, until I be- 
gan to know the voices of many of the corporals that came with the guard to relieve 
the sentry in the castle yard below, and every drum and bugle call of the regiment 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 385 

idea of following in detail the transactions which immediately 
followed upon the capitulation of the Irish armies : " when," 
says Mr. Prendergast, " there took place a scene not wit- 
nessed in Europe since the conquest of Spain by the Vandals." 
" Indeed," he continues, " it is injustice to the Vandals to 
equal them with the English of 1652 ; for the Vandals came 
as strangers and conquerors in an age of force and barbarism ; 
nor did they banish the people, though they seized and divided 
their lands by lot; but the English of 1652 were of the 
same nation as half of the chief families in Ireland, and 
had at that time had the island under their sway for five hun- 
dred years. 

" The Captains and men of war of the Irish, amounting to 
forty thousand men and upwards, they banished into Spain, 
where they took service under that king ; others of them 
with a crowd of orphan girls were transported to serve the 
English planters in the West Indies ; and the remnant of the 
nation not banished or transported were to be transplanted in- 
to Connaught, while the conquering army divided the ancient 
inheritances of the Irish amongst them by lot." 

James essayed the plantation of Ulster, as Henry and Eliz- 
abeth had the colonization of Munster. The republican par- 
liament went much farther, " improving" to the full their 
dreadful " opportunity." They decided to colonize t/iree 
provinces— Leinster, Munster, and Ulster — converting the 
fourth (Connaught) into a vast encircled prison, into which 
such of the doomed natives as were not either transported as 
white slaves to Barbadoes, kept for servitude by the new set- 
tlers, or allowed to expatriate themselves as a privilege, might 
be driven on pain of immediate death ; the calculation being, 
that in the desolate tracts assigned as their unsheltered prison 
they must inevitably perish ere long. 

The American poet, Longfellow, has, in the poem of 

quartered in the Ship Street barracks. At length, between the labor of copying and 
excitement at the astonishing drama performing, as it were, before my eyes, my 
heart by some strange movements warned me it was necessary to retire for a time. 
But I again and again returned at intervals, sometimes of months, sometimes of years.' 
Preface to the — Cromwellian Settlement of Ireland. 



386 THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 

" Evangeline," immortalized the story of Acadia. How 
many a heart has melted into pity, how many an eye has fill- 
ed with tears, perusing his metrical relation of the " transplant- 
ing" and dispersion of that one little community " on the shore 
of the basin of Minas ! " But alas ! how few recall or realize 
the fact — if, indeed, aware of it at all — that not one but /mn- 
dreds of such dispersions, infinitely more tragical and more 
romantic, were witnessed in Ireland in the year 1654, when 
in every hamlet throughout three provinces "the sentence of 
expulsion was sped from door to door!" Longfellow de- • 
scribes to us how the English captain read aloud to the dis- 
mayed and grief-stricken villagers of Grand Pre the decree 
for their dispersion. Unconsciously, the poet merely de- 
scribed the form directed by an act of the English parliament 
to be adopted all over Ireland, when " by beat of driimme and 
sound of trumpett, on some markettday, within tenn days after 
the same shall come unto them within their respective pre- 
cincts," " the governor and commissioners of revenue, or any 
two or more of them within every precinct," were ordered to 
publish and proclaim "this present declaration ; " to wit, that 
" all the ancient estates and farms of the people of Ireland 
were to belong to the adventurers and the army of England, 
and that the parliament had assigned Connaught (America 
was not then accessible) for the habitation of the Irish nation, 
whither they must transplant witJi their wives and daughters and 
children before the ist May folloiving (1654), tinder penalty of 
death y if found on this side of the Shannon after that day. 

Connaught was selected for the habitation of all the Irish 
nation," we are reminded, " by reason of its being surrounded 
by the sea and the Shannon all but ten miles, and the whole 
easily made into line by a few forts.* To further secure the 
imprisonment of the nation, and to cut them off from relief by 
the sea, a belt four miles wide, commencing one mile west of 
Sligo, and so winding along the sea coast and the Shannon, 



* "9th March, 1654-5.— Order— Passes over the Shannon between Jamestown and 
Sligo to be closed, so as to make one entire line between Connaught and the adja- 
cent parts of Leinster and Ulster." 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 387 

was reserved by the act (27th September, 1653) from being set 
outtothe Irish, and was to be given to the soldiery to plant." 
The Irish were not to attempt to pass " the four mile line," as 
it was called, or to enter a walled town (or to come within 
five miles of certain specified towns) '' on pain of death.'" "^ 

Need we marvel that all over the land the loud wail of grief 
and despair resounded for days together ? It was one univer- 
sal scene of distracted leave-taking, and then along every road 
that led towards Connaught, each a via dolorosa, the sorrowing 
cavalcades streamed, weary, fainting, and foot-sore, weeping 
aloud ! 

Towards the seaports moved other processions ; alas ! of not 
less mournful character — the Irish regiments marching to em- 
bark for exile ; or the gangs in charge to be transported and 
sold into slavery in the pestilential settlements ot the West 
Indies ! Of young boys and girls alone Sir William Petty 
confesses six thousand were thus transported ; " but the total 
number of Irish sent to perish in the tobacco islands, as they 
were called, were estimated in some Irish accounts at one 
hundred thousand." Force was necessary to collect them ; 
but vain was all resistance. Bands of soldiery went about 
tearing from the arms of their shrieking parents, young chil- 
dren of ten or twelve years, then chaining them in gangs, they 
marched them to the nearest port ! " Henry Cromwell (Oli- 
ver's son,) who was most active in the kidnapping of Irish 
' white slaves,' writing from Ireland to Secretary Thurloe, says : 
' I think it might be of like advantage to your affairs there, and 
ours here, if you should think to send one thousand five hun- 
dred or two thousand young boys of twelve or fourteen years 
of age to the place aforementioned (West Indies). Who knows 
but it may be the means to make them Englishmen— I mean, 
rather. Christians. Thurloe answers : ' The committee of the 



* "How strict was the imprisonment of the transplanted in Connaught may be judg- 
ed when it required a special order for LordTrimbleston, Sir Richard Barnwall, Mr. 
Patrick Netterville, and others, then dwelling in the suburbs of Athlone on the Con- 
naught side, to pass and repass the bridge into the part of the town on the Leinster 
side on their business ; and only on giving security not to pass without special leave 
of the governor'' — CtomwiUian Settlctnent ; with a reference to the State Record. 



388 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

council have voted one thousand girls and as many youths to 
be taken 7ip for that purpose.' " 

The /zV/j' of the amiable kidnapper will be noted. But it 
was always so with his class; whether confiscating or trans- 
planting, whether robbing the Irish, or selling them into 
slavery, it was always for their spiritual or temporal good 
— to sanctify or to civilize them. Accordingly we read that 
at this period " the parliamentary commissioners in Dublin 
published a proclamation by which and other edicts any 
Catholic priest found in Ireland after twenty days, was guilty 
of high treason, and liable to be hanged, drawn, and quar- 
tered ; any person harboring such clergymen was liable to 
the penalty of death, and loss of goods and chattels ; and any 
person knowing the place of concealment of a priest and not 
disclosing it to the anthorities, might be publicly whipped, 
and further punished with amputation of ears. 

" Any person absent from the parish church on a Sunday 
was liable to a fine of thirty pence ; magistrates might take 
away the children of Catholics and send them to England for 
education, and might tender the oath of abjuration to all per- 
sons at the age of twenty-one years, who, on refusal, were 
liable to imprisonment during pleasure, and the forfeiture of 
two-thirds of their real and personal estates. 

" The same price of five pounds was set on the head of a 
priest and on that of a wolf, and the production of either head 
was a sufficient claim for the reward. The military being 
distributed in small parties over the country, and their vigi- 
lance kept alive by sectarian rancor and the promise of reward, 
it must have been difficult for a priest to escape detection, but 
many of them, nevertheless, braved the danger for their poor 
scattered flocks ; and, residing in caverns in the mountains, 
or in lonely hovels in the bogs, they issued forth at night to 
carry the consolations of religion to the huts of their oppress- 
ed and suffering countrymen." * 

" Ludlow," continues the same author, " relates in his Mem- 
oirs (vol. i.. page 422 de Vevay, 1691) how, when marching 

* Havertv. 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 389 

from Dundalk to Castieblaney, probably near the close of 1652, 
he discovered a few of the Irish in a cave, and how his party 
spent two days in endeavoring to smother them by smoke. 
It appears that the poor fugitives preserved themselves from 
suffocation during this operation, by holding their faces close 
to the surface of some running water in the cavern, and that 
one of this party was armed with a pistol, with which he shot 
the foremost of the troopers who were entering the mouth of 
the cave after the first day's smoking. Ludlow caused the 
trial to be repeated, and the crevices through which the smoke 
escaped having been closed, * another smoke was made.' The 
next time the soldiers entered with helmets and breast-plates, 
but they found the only armed man dead, inside the entrance, 
where he was suffocated at his post ; while the other fugitives 
still preserved life at the little brook. Fifteen were put to the 
sword within the cave, and four dragged out alive ; but Lud- 
low does not mention whether he hanged these then or not; 
but one at least of the original number was a Catholic priest, 
for the soldiers found a crucifix, chalice, and priest's robes in 
the cavern. 

Of our kindred, old or young, sold into slavery in the "tobacco 
islands," we hear no more in history, and shall hear no more 
until the last great accounting day. Of those little ones— just 
old enough to feel all the pangs of such a ruthless and eternal 
severance from loving mother, from fond father, from brothers 
and playmates, from all of happiness on earth — no record tells 
the fate. We only know that a few years subsequently there 
survived of them in the islands barely the remembrance that 
they came in shiploads and perished soon — too young to stand 
the climate or endure the toil ! But at home — in the rifled 
nest of the parent's heart — what a memory of them was kept! 
There the image of each little victim was enshrined ; and father 
and mother, bowed with years and suffering, went down to 
the grave " still thinking, ever thinking " of the absent, the 
cherished one, whom they were never to see on earth again, 
now writhing beneath a planter's lash, or filling a nameless 
grave in Jamaican soil! Yes, that army of innocents vanish 
from the record here ; but the great God who marked the 



390 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

slaughters of Herod, has kept a reckoning of the crime that 
in that hour so notably likened Ireland to Rachel weeping for 
her children. 

But there was another army — other of the expatriated — of 
whom we are not to lose sight, the " Irish swordmen," so call- 
ed in the European writings of the time ; the Irish regiments 
who elected to go into exile, preferring to 

." roam 
Where freedom and their God might lead," 

rather than be bondsmen under a bigot-yoke at home. "For- 
eign nations were apprised by the Kilkenny Articles that the 
Irish were to be allowed to engage in the service of any state 
in amity with the Commonwealth. The valor of the Irish 
soldier was well known abroad. From the time of the Mun- 
ster plantation by Queen Elizabeth, numerous exiles had taken 
service in the Spanish army. There were Irish regiments 
serving in the Low Countries. The Prince of Orange declared 
they were 'born soldiers;' and Henry the Fourth of France 
publicly called Hugh O'Neill 'the third soldier of the age,' 
and he said there was no nation made better troops than the 
Irish when drilled. Agents from the King of Spain, the King 
of Poland, and the Prince de Conde, were now contending 
for the services of Irish troops. Don Ricardo White, in INIay 
1652, shipped seven thousand in batches from Waterford, 
Kinsale, Gal way, Limerick, and Bantry, for the King of Spain. 
Colonel Christopher Mayo got liberty in September, 1652, to 
beat his drums to raise three thousand for the same king. 
Lord Muskerry took five thousand to the King of Poland. 
In July, 1654, three thousand five hundred, commanded by 
Colonel Edmund Droyer, went to serve the Prince de Conde. 
Sir Walter Dungan and others got liberty to beat their drums 
in different garrisons, to a rallying of their men that laid 
down arms with them in order to a rendezvous, and to depart 
for Spain. They got permission to march their men together 
to the different ports, their pipers perhaps playing * Ha til, 
Ha til. Ha til, mi tulidh' — 'We return, we return no more!* 

* "The tune with which the departing Highlanders usually bid farewell to their 
native shores," — Preface to Sir Walter Scott's Legend of Montrose. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 393 

Between i66i and 1664, thirty-four thousand (of whom few 
ever saw their loved native land again) were transported into 
foreign parts."* 

While the roads to Connaught were as I have described 
witnessing a stream of hapless fugitives — prisoners rather, 
plodding wearily to their dungeon and grave — a singular 
scene was going on in London. At an office or bureau ap- 
pointed for the purpose by government, a lottery was held, 
whereat the farms, houses, and estates from which the owners 
had thus been driven, were being "drawn" by or on behalf 
of the soldiers and officers of the army, and the " adventurers " 
— /. e. petty shopkeepers in London, and others who had lent 
money for the war on the Irish. The mode of conducting 
the lottery or drawing was regulated by public ordinance. 
Not unfrequently a vulgar and illiterate trooper "drew " the 
mansion and estate of an Irish nobleman, who was glad to 
accept permission to inhabit, for a few weeks merely, the 
stable or the cowshedf with his lady and children, pending 
their setting out for Connaught ! This same lottery w^as the 
"settlement " (varied a little by further confiscations to the 
same end forty years subsequently) by which the now exist- 
ing landed proprietary was "planted" upon Ireland. Between 
a proprietary thus planted and the bulk of the population, as 
well as the tenantry under them, it is not to be marvelled that 
feelings the reverse of cordial prevailed. From the first they 
scowled at each other. The plundered and trampled people 
despised and hated the " Cromwellian brood," as they were 
called, never regarding them as more than vulgar and violent 
usurpers of other men's estates. The Cromwellians, on the 
other hand, feared and hated the serf-peasantry, whose secret 
sentiments and desires of hostility they well knew. Nothing 
but the fusing spirit of nationality obliterates such feelings as 
these ; but no such spirit was allowed to fuse the Cromwellian 
" landlords " and the Irish tenantry. The former were taught 



* Prendergast's Crom, Settlement. 

\ See the case of the then proprietor of the magnificent place now called Woodlands 
county Dublin. — Crom, Set. Ire. 



391 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

to consider themselves as a foreign garrison, endowed to watch 
and keep down, and levy a land-tribute off the native tillers 
of the soil ; moreover " the salt of the land," the " elect of the 
Lord," the ruling class, alone entitled to be ranked as saints 
or citizens. So they looked to and leaned all on England, 
without whom they thought they must be massacred. "Aliens 
in race, in language, and in religion," they had not one tie in 
common with the subject population : and so both classes un- 
happily grew up to be what they remain very much in our 
own day — more of taskmasters and bondsmen than landlords 
and tenants. 




LXI. — HOW KING CHARLES THE SECOND CAME BACK ON A 
COMPROMISE. HOW A NEW MASSACRE STORY WAS SET TO 
WORIC THE MARTYRDOM OF PRIMATE PLUNKETT. 

OSSESSED of supreme power, Cromwell by a bold 
stroke of usurpation, now changed the republic to 
what he called a " protectorate," with himself as 
" Protector ;" in other words, a kingdom with Oliver 
as king, vice Charles, decapitated. This coup d' ctat complete- 
ly disgusted the sincere republicans of the Pym and Ludlow 
school ; and on the death of the iron-willed Protector, 3d 
September, 1658, the whole structure set up by the revolution 
on the ruins of the monarchy in England tottered and fell. 

Communication had been opened with the second Charles, 
a worthless, empty-headed creature, and it was made clear to 
him, that if he would only undertake not to disturb too much 
the "vested interests " created during the revolution — that is, 
if he would undertake to let the "settlement of property" (as 
they were pleased to call their stealing of other men's estates) 
alone — his return to the throne might be made easy. Charles 
was delighted. This proposal only asked of him to sacrifice 
his friends, now no longer powerful, since they had lost all in 
his behalf. He acquiesced, and the monarchy was restored. 
The Irish nobility and gentry, native and Anglo-Irish, who 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 395 

had been so fearfully scourged for the sin of loyalty to his 
father now joyfully expected that right would be done, and 
that they would enjoy their own once more. They were soon 
undeceived. Such of the "lottery "speculators, or army 
officers and soldiers as were actually in possession of the es- 
tates of royalist owners, were not to be disturbed. Such es-. 
tates only as had not actually been "taken up"were to be restor- 
ed to the owners. There was one class, however, whom all the 
others readily agreed might be robbed without any danger — 
—nay, whom it was loudly declared to be a crime to desist from 
robbing to the last — namely, the Catholics — especially the 
''Irish Papists." The reason why, was not clear. Everybody, 
on the contrary, saw that they had suffered most of all for their 
devoted loyalty to the murdered king. After a while a low 
murmur of compassion — muttering even of justice for them — 
began to be heard about the court. This danger created 
great alarm. The monstrous idea of justice to the Catholics 
was surely not to be endured ; but what was to be done ? 
" Happy thought " — imitate the skilful ruse of the Irish Puri- 
tans in starting the massacre story of 1641. But where was 
the scene of massacre to be laid this time, and when must they 
say it had taken place? This was found to be an irresistible 
stopper on a new massacre story in the past, but then the great 
boundless future was open to them : could they not say it was 
yet to take place ? A blessed inspiration the saintly people 
called this. Yes : they could get up an anti-Catholic frenzy 
with a massacre-story about the future, as well as one relating 
to the past ! 

Accordingly, in 1678 the diabolical fabrication known as 
the " Great Popish Plot" made its appearance. The great 
Protestant historian, Charles James Fox, declared that the 
Popish plot story " must always be considered an indelible 
disgrace upon the English nation." Macaulay more recently 
has still more vehemently denounced the infamy of that con- 
coction and indeed, even a year or two after it had done its 
work, all England rang with execrations of its concoctors — 
several of whom, Titus Oates, the chief swearer, especially, 
suffered the penalty of their discovered perjuries. 



396 THE STOliY OF IRELAND. 

But the plot-story did its appointed work splendidly and 
completely, and all the sentimental horror of a thousand 
Macaulays could nought avail, once that work was done. A 
proper fury had been got up against the Catholics, arresting 
the idea of compassionating them, giving full impetus to merci- 
less persecution of Popish priests, and, above all (crowning 
merit !) effectually silencing all suggestions about restoring to 
Irish Catholic royalists their estates and possessions. Shaftes- 
bury, one of the chief promoters of the plot-story, was in- 
deed dragged to the tower as an abominable and perjured 
miscreant, but not until the scaffold had drunk deep of Cath- 
olic blood, and Tyburn had been the scene of that mournful 
tragedy — that foul and heartless murder — of which Oliver 
Plunkett, the sainted martyr-primate of Ireland, was the vic- 
tim.* 

This venerable man was at Rome when the Pope selected 
him for the primacy. A bloody persecution was at the 
moment raging in Ireland ; and Dr. Plunkett felt that the ap- 
pointment -was a summons to martyrdom. Nevertheless he 
hastened to Ireland, and assumed the duties of his position. 
Such was his gentleness and purity of character, his profound 
learning, the piety, and indeed sanctity, of his life, that even 
the Protestant officials and gentry round about came to en- 
tertain for him the highest respect and personal regard. Pru- 
dent and circumspect, he rigidly abstained from interference 
in the troubled politics of the period, and devoted himself 
exclusively to rigorous reforms of such irregularities and 
abuses as had crept into parochial or diocesan affairs during 



* Few episodes in Irish history are more tragic and touching than that with which 
the name of the Martyr- Primate is associated, and there have been few more valuable, 
contributions to Irish Catholic or historical literature in our generation than the 
" Memoir" of this illustrious prelate by the Rev. Dr. Moran. In it the learned 
reverend author has utilized the rich stores of original manuscripts relating to the 
period — many of them letters in the Martyr-Primate's handwriting— preserved in 
Rome, and has made his book not only a " memoir" of the murdered archbishop, 
but an authentic history of a period momentous in its importance and interest for 
Irishmen. A much briefer work is the Life and Death of Oliver Plunkett, by the Rev. 
George Crolly, a little book which tells a sad story in language full of simple pathos 
and true eloquence 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 397 

the past century of civil war and social chaos. For the sup- 
port of the " intended massacre" story it was clearly necessary 
to extend the scene of the plot to Ireland (so much more Pop- 
ish than England), and casting about for some one to put down 
as chief conspirator, the constructors of the story thought the 
head of the Popish prelates ought to be the man, ex officio. 
The London government accordingly wrote to the Irish lord 
lieutenant to announce that the " Popish plot" existed in Ire- 
land also. He complied. Next he was to resume energetical- 
ly the statutory persecutions of the Papists. This he also 
obeyed. Next he was directed to arrest the Popish primate 
for complicity in the plot. Here he halted. From the 
correspondence it would appear that he wrote back to 
the effect that this was rather too strong, inasmuch as even 
amongst the ultra-Protestants, the idea of Dr. Plunkett being 
concerned in any such busmess would be scouted. Besides, 
he pointed out there was no evidence. He was told that this 
made no matter, to obey his orders, and arrest the Primate. 
He complied reluctantly. An agent of the Oates and Shaftes- 
bury gang in London, Hetherington b}'' name, was now sent 
over to Dublin to get up evidence, and soon prooiamations 
were circulated through all the jails, offering pardon to any 
criminal — murderer, robber, tory, or traitor — who could 
(would) give the necessary evidence against the Primate ; 
and accordingly crown witnesses by the dozen competed in 
willingness to swear anything that was required. The Pri- 
mate was brought to trial at Drogheda, but the grand jury, 
though ultra-Protestant to a man, threw out the bill ; the 
perjury of the crown witnesses was too gross, the innocence 
of the meek and venerable man before them too apparent. 
When the news reached London, great was the indignation 
there. The lord lieutenant was at once directed to send the 
Primate thither, where nosuch squeamishness of jurors would 
mar the ends of justice. The hapless prelate was shipped to 
London and brought to trial there. Macaulay himself has de- 
scribed for us from original authorities the manner in which 
those "trials" were conducted. Here is his description of 
the witnesses, the judges, the juries, and the audience in court : 



398 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

" A wretch named Carstairs, who had earned a Hving in 
Scotland by going disguised to conventicles, and then inform- 
ing against the preachers, led the way ; Bedloe, a noted 
swindler, followed ; and soon from all the brothels, gambling- 
houses, and sponging-houses of London, false witnesses poured 
forth to swear away the lives of Roman Catholics. . , . 
Oates, that he might not be eclipsed by his imitators, soon 
added a large supplement to his original narrative. The vul- 
gar believed, and the highest magistrates /rr/^Wr^ to believe, 
even such fictions as these. The chief judges of the kingdom- 
were corrupt, cruel, and timid. ...» The juries par- 
took of the feelings then common throughout the nation, and 
were encouraged by the bench to indulge those feelings with- 
out restraint. The multitude applauded Oates and his con- 
federates, hooted and pelted the witnesses who appeared on 
behalf of the accused, and shouted with joy when the verdict 
of guilty was pronounced." 

Before such a tribunal, on the 8th of June, 1681, the aged 
and venerable Primate was arraigned, and of course convict- 
ed. The scene in court was ineffably brutal. In accordance 
with the law in that time, the accused was allowed no counsel 
whereas the crown was represented by the Attorney-General 
and Sergeant Maynard ; the judges being fully as ferocious 
as the official prosecutors. Every attempt made by the ven- 
erable victim at the bar to defend himself, only elicited a roar 
of anger or a malignant taunt from one side or the other. 
The scene has not inappropriately been likened, rather to the 
torturing of a victim at the stake by savage Indians, dancing 
and shouting wildly round him, than the trial of a prisoner 
in a court of law. At lensrth the verdict was delivered ; to 
which, when he heard it, the archbishop simply answered : 
'■^Dco gratias !'' Then he was sentenced to be drawn on a 
hurdle to Tyburn, there and then to be hanged, cut down 
while alive, his body quartered, and the entrails burned in 
fire. He heard this infamous decree with serene composure. 

"But looking upward full of grace, 
God's glory smote him on the face." 

Even amongst the governing party there were many who 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. ?j90 

felt greatly shocked by this conviction. The thing was too 
glaring. The Protestant archbishop of Dublin (who seems to 
have been a humane and honorable man)expressed aloud his 
horror, and fearlessly declared the Catholic primate as in- 
nocent of the crimes alleged as an unborn child. But no one 
durst take on himself at the moment to stem the tide of Eng- 
lish popular fury. The Earl of Essex, indeed, hurried to the 
king and vehemently besought him to save the Irish primate 
by a royal pardon. Charles, terribly excited, declared that 
he, as well as every one of them, knew the primate to be in- 
nocent, "but," cried he with passionate earnestness, ye could 
have saved him ; / cannot — you know well I dare not." 

Then, like Pontius Pilate, he desired "the blood of this 
innocent man" to be on their heads, not his. The law should 
take its course. 

" The law" did "take its course." The sainted Plunkett 
was dragged on a hurdle to Tyburn amidst the yells of the 
London populace. There he was hanged, beheaded, quartered 
and disembowelled, "according to law," July ist, 1681. 

Soon after, as I have already intimated, the popular de- 
lirium cooled down and every body began to see that rivers 
of innocent Catholic blood had been made to flow without 
cause, crime, or offence. But what of that ? A most salu- 
tary check had been administered to the apprehended design 
of restoring to Catholic royalists the lands they had lost 
through their devotion to the late king. The "Popish Plot" 
story of 1678, like the great massacre story of 1641, had ac- 
complished its allotted work. 



400 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 




LXII.— HOW KING JAMES THE SECOND, BY ARBITRARILY AS- 
SERTING LIBERTY OF CONSCIENCE, UTTERLY VIOLATED 
THE WILL OF THE ENGLISH NATION. HOW THE ENGLISH 
AGREED, CONFEDERATED, COMBINED, AND CONSPIRED TO 
DEPOSE THE KING, AND BEAT UP FOR "FOREIGN EMIS- 
SARIES" TO COME AND BEGIN THE REBELLION FOR THEM. 

|N the 6th February, 1685, Charles the Second closed 
a life the chronicles of which may be searched in vain 
for a notable act of goodness, wisdom, valor, or vir- 
^^- tue. On his death-bed he openly professed the faith 
which for years past, if not at all times, he had secretly be- 
lieved in, but dared not publicly avow — Catholicity. The 
man, however, on whom now devolved the triple crown of 
England, Scotland, and Ireland — Charles's brother, James, 
Duke of York — was one who had neither dissembled nor con- 
cealed his religious convictions. He was a sincere Catholic, 
and had endured much of trouble and persecution in conse- 
quence of his profession of that faith. He was married to the 
young and beautiful princess Mary of Modena, an ardent 
Catholic like himself,* and the ultra-Protestant party wit- 
nessed his accession to the throne with undisguised chagrin 
and sullen discontent. 

All writers have agreed in attributing to James the Second 
a disregard of the plainest dictates of prudence, if not of the 
plainest limits of legality, in the measures he adopted for the 
accomplishment of a purpose unquestionably equitable, laud- 
able, aud beneficent — namely, the abolition of proscription 
and persecution for conscience sake, and the establishment of 



* She was his second wife, and had been married to him at the age of fifteen. By 
his first wife, Ann, daughter of Chancellor Hyde, he had two daughters, who were 
brought up Protestants by their mother. They were married, one, Mary, to Prince 
William of Orangp -, the other, Ann, to Prince George of Denmark. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 401 

religious freedom and equality. It may be said, and with 
perfect truth, that though this was so, though James was rash 
and headlong, it mattered little after all, for the end he aimed 
at was so utterly opposed to the will of the English people, so 
inconsistent with " vested interests" throughout all three king- 
doms, that it was out of all possibility he could have succeed- 
ed, whether he were politic and cautious, or straightforward, 
arbitrary, and rash. For the English nation was too strong- 
ly bent on thorough persecution, to be barred in its course, or 
diverted into tolerance or humanity by any power of king or 
queen ; and already the English people had made it plain that 
no man should be ruler over them who would not be of their 
mind on this subject. But James's conduct rendered his over- 
throw simply inevitable. Before he was well seated on the 
throne, he had precipitated conflicts with the judges, the 
bishops, and parliament ; the point of contention, to be sure, 
being mainly his resolution of granting freedom of conscience 
to all creeds. It was in Ireland, however, that this startling 
programme evoked the wildest sensation of alarm on the one 
hand, and rejoicing on the other ; and it was there that, inev- 
itably, owing to the vast preponderance of the Catholic pop- 
ulation, relative equality appeared to the Protestant eye as 
absolute Catholic dominance. Two CathoHc judges and one 
Protestant may have been even short of the Catholic propor- 
tion ; yet the Protestant colony would not look at the ques - 
tion in this way at all, and they called it intolerable Popish 
ascendancy. James had selected for the carrying out of his 
views in Ireland a man whose faults greatly resembled his 
own, Richard Talbot, subsequently Earl and Duke of Tyr • 
connel. He was devotedly attached to the king ; a courtier, 
not a statesman ; rash, vain, self-willed ; a faithful and loyal 
friend, but a famous man to lose a kingdom with. 

If the Irish Catholics had indulged in hopes on the acces- 
sion successively of James's grandfather, father, and brother, 
what must have been their feelings now ? Here, assuredly. 
there was no room for mistake or doubt. A king resolved to 
befriend them was on the throne I The land burst forth into 
universal rejoicing. Out from hiding place in cellar and garret. 



402 THE STORY OF IRELAND, 

cavern and fastness, came hunted prelate and priest, the sur- 
pHce and the stole, the chalice and the patten ; and once more, 
in the open day and in the public churches, the ancient rites 
were seen. The people, awakened as if from a long trance 
of sorrow, heaved with a new life, and with faces all beaming 
and radiant went about in crowds chanting songs of joy and 
gratitude. One after one, the barriers of exclusion were laid 
low, and the bulk of the population admitted to equal rights 
with the colonist- Protestants. In fine, all men were declared 
equal in the eye of the law, irrespective of creed or race ; an 
utter reversion of the previous system, which constituted the 
*' colony" the jailors of the fettered nation. 

Ireland and England accordingly seethed with Protestant 
disaffection, but there was an idea that the king would die 
without legitimate male issue,* and so the general resolution 
seemed to be that in a few years all would be. right, and these 
abominable ideas of religious tolerance swept away once 
more. To the consternation and dismay of the anti-tolerance 
party, however, a son was born to James in June, 1688. 
There was no standing this. It was the signal for revolt. 

On this occasion no native insurrection initiated the revol- 
ution. In this crisis of their history — this moment in which 
was moulded and laid down the basis of the English constitu- 
tion as it exists to our own time — the English nation asserted 
by precept and practice the truly singular doctrine, that even 
for the purpose of overthrowing a legitimate native sovereign, 
conspiring malcontents act well and wiselv in depending 
upon " foreign emissaries" to come and begin the work— and 
complete it too ! So they invited the Dutch, and the Danes, 
and the Swedes, and the French Calvinists— and indeed, for 
that matter, foreign emissaries from everv country or any 
country who would aid them— to come and help them in 
their rebellion against their king. To the Stadtholder of 
Holland, William Prince of Orange, they offered the throne, 
having ascertained that he would accept it without any 



* Four children born to him by his second wife, all died young, and some years 
had now elapsed without the birth of any other. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND, 403 

qualms, on the ground that the king to be beheaded or driven 
away was at once his own uncle and father-in-law. 

This remarkable man has been greatly misunderstood, 
owing to the fact of his name being made the shibboleth of a 
faction whose sanguinary fanaticism he despised and repudiar- 
ed. William Henry, Prince of Orange was now in his thirtv- 
seventh year. An impartial and discriminating Catholic 
historian justly describes him to us as " fearless of danger, pa- 
tient, silent, imperious to his enemies, rather a soldier than a 
statesman, indifferent in religion, and personally adverse lo 
persecution for conscience sake," his great and almost his only 
public passion being the humiliation of France through the 
instrumentality of a European coalition. In the great struggle 
against French preponderance on the continent then being 
waged by the league of Augsburg, William was on the same 
side with the rulers of Austria, Germany, and Spain, and even 
with the Pope ; James, on the other hand, being altogether 
attached to France. In his designs on the English throne, 
however, the Dutch prince practised the grossest deceit on his 
confederates of the league, protesting to them that he was 
coming to England solely to compose in a friendly way a do- 
mestic quarrel, one of the results of which would be to detach 
James from the side of France and add England to the league. 
By means of this duplicity he was able to bring to the aid of 
his English schemes, men, money, and material contributed 
for league purposes by his continental colleagues. 

On the 5th of November, 1688, William landed at Torbay 
in Devonshire. He brought with him a Dutch fleet of twenty- 
two men of war, twenty-five frigates, twenty-five fire-ships, 
and about four hundred transports ; conveying in all about 
fifteen thousand men. If the royal army could have been 
relied upon, James might easily have disposed of these 
" invaders" or " liberators ;" but the army went over whole- 
sale to the " foreign emissaries." Thus finding himself sur- 
rounded by treason, and having the fate of his hapless father 
in remembrance, James took refuge in France, where he ar- 
rived on 25th December, 1688 ; the Queen and infant Prince 
of Wales, much to the rage of the rebels, having been safely 



404 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

conveyed thither some short time previousl}'. The revolution- 
ary party affected to think the escape of the king an abdication, 
the theory being, that by not waiting to be beheaded he had 
forfeited the throne. 

England and Scotland unmistakably declared for the revol- 
ution. Ireland as unquestionably — indeed enthusiastically- 
declared for the king ; any other course would be impossible 
to a people amongst whom ingratitude has been held infamous, 
and against whom want of chivalry or generosity has never 
been alleged. In proportion as the Catholic population ex- 
pressed their sympathy with the king, the "colony" Protest- 
ants and Cromwellianite garrisons manifested their adhesion 
to the rebel cause, and began to flock from all sides into 
the strong places of Ulster, bringing with them their arms 
and ammunition. Tyrconnel, who had vainly endeavored 
to call in the government arms in their hands (as militia,) 
now commissioned se\''eral of the Catholic nobility and gentry 
to raise regiments of more certain loyalty for the king's ser- 
vice. Of recruits there was no lack, but of the use of arms or 
knowledge of drill or discipline, these recruits knew absolutely 
nothing; and of arms, of equipments, or of war material — espe- 
cially of cannon— Tyrconnel found himself almost entirely desti- 
tute. The malcontents, on the other hand, constituted that class 
which for at least forty years past had enjoyed by law the sole 
right to possess arms, and who had from childhood, of ne- 
cessity, been trained to use them. The royalist force which 
the viceroy sent to occupy Derry (a Catholic regiment newly 
raised by Lord Antrim), incredible as it may appear, had for 
the greater part no better arms than clubs and skians. It is 
not greatly to be wondered at that the Protestant citizens — 
amongst whom, as well as throughout all the Protestant dis- 
tricts in Ireland, anonymous letters had been circulated, giving ' 
out an " intended Popish massacre " * of all the Protestants on 
the 9th December — feared to admit such a gathering within 
their walls. " The impression made by the report of the in- 
tended massacre, and the contempt naturally entertained for 



'The old, old story, always available, always efficacious ! 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 405 

foes armed in so rude a fashion," were as a matter of fact the 
chief incentives to the " closing of the gates of Derry," which 
event we may set down as the formal inauguration of the re- 
bellion in Ireland. 




LXIII. — HOW WILLIAM AND JAMES MET FACE TO FACE AT THE 
BOYNE. A PLAIN SKETCH OF THE BATTLE FIELD AND THE 
TACTICS OF THE DAY. 

<%^IGHTEEN months afterwards, two armies stood face 
to face on the banks of the Boyne. King James and 
Prince William for the first time were to contest in 
person the issues between them. 

The interval had not been without its events. In 
England the revolution encountered no opposition, and Wil- 
liam was free to bring against Ireland and Scotland the full 
strength of his British levies, as well as of his foreign auxil- 
iaries. Ireland, Tyrconnel was quite sanguine of holding for 
King James, even though at the worst England should be lost ; 
and to arouse to the full the enthusiasm of the devoted Gaels, 
nay possibly to bring back to their allegiance the rebellious 
Ulster Protestants, he urged the king to come to Ireland and 
assume in person the direction of affairs. King Louis of 
France concurred in those views, and a squadron was prepared 
at Brest to carry the fugitive back to his dominions. " Ac- 
companied by his natural sons, the Duke of Berwick and the 
Grand Prior Fitzjames, by Lieutenant-Generals de Rosen and 
de Maumont, Majors- General de Persignan and de Lery (or 
Geraldine), about a hundred officers of all ranks, and one 
thousand two hundred veterans, James sailed from Brest with 
a fieet of thirty-three vessels, and landed at Kinsale on the 
1 2th day of March (old style). His reception by the southern 
population was enthusiastic in the extreme. From Kinsale to 
Cork, from Cork to Dublin, his progress was accompanied by 
Gaelic songs and dances, by Latin orations, loyal addresses, 
and all the demonstrations with which a popular favorite can 



406 THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 

be welcomed. Nothing was remembered by that easily paci- 
fied people but his great misfortunes, and his steady fidelity 
to his and their religion. The royal entry into Dublin was the 
crowning pageant of this delusive restoration. With the tact 
and taste for such demonstrations hereditary in the citizens, 
the trades and arts were marshalled before him. Two vener- 
able harpers played on their national instruments near the 
gate by which he entered ; a number of religious in their robes, 
with a huge cross at their head, chanted as they went ; forty 
3'oung girls dressed in white, danced the ancient Rinka, scat- 
tering flowers as they danced. The Earl of Tyrconnel, lately 
raised to a dukedom, the judges, the mayor and corporation, 
completed the procession which marched over newly sanded 
streets beneath arches of evergreens, and windows hung with 
' tapestry and cloth of Arras.' But, of all the incidents of that 
striking ceremonial, nothing more powerfully impressed the 
popular imagination than the green flag floating from the 
main tower of the castle bearing the significant inscription : 
* 710W or never — nozv and for ever.'' ' 

So far well ; but when he came to look into the important 
matter of material for war, a woful state of things confronted 
James. As we have already seen, for forty years past, in 
pursuance of acts of parliament rigorously enforced, no Cath- 
olic or native Irishman had been allowed to learn a trade, 
to inhabit walled towns, or to possess arms. As a conse- 
quence, when the Protestants, whom alone for nearly half a 
century the law allowed to learn to make, repair, or use fire- 
arms, fled to the north, there was in all the island scarcely a 
gunsmith or armorer on whom the king could rely. Such 
Protestant artizans as remained, " when obliged to set about 
repairing guns or forging spears, threw every possible obstacle 
in the way, or executed the duty in such a manner as to leave 
the weapon next to useless in the hour of action ; while night 
and da)^ the fires blazed and the anvils rang in the prepara- 
tion of the best arms for the Williamites." The want of can- 
non was most keenly felt on the king's side. At the time of 
the so-called siege of Derry (progressing when James 
arrived), "there was not a single battering cannon fit for use 



THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 407 

in Ireland ; and there were only twelve field pieces." As a 
consequence, there was, as there could have been, no real 
siege of Derry. The place was blockaded more or less loosely 
for some months — closely towards the end. The inhabitants 
bore the privations of the blockade with great endurance and 
heroism, though certainly not greater than that exhibited by 
the besieged in severer blockades elsewhere durmg the war.* 
It were pitiful and unworthy to deny to the brave rebels of 
Derry all that such heroic perseverance as theirs deserves. 
Such qualities as they displayed — such sufferings cheerfully 
borne for a cause thay judged just and holy — deserve honor 
and acclaim wherever found. But, after all, as I have pointed 
out, it was a blockade, not a siege, they endured ; and their 
courage was put to no such test as that which tried the citizens 
of Limerick two or three years subsequently. 

'• Meanwhile a splendidly appointed Williamite army had 
been collected at Chester. It was commanded by the veteran 
Duke Schonberg, and amounted to ten thousand men. They 
landed at Bangor, county Down, 13th August, 1689, and on 
the 17th took possession of Belfast." Little was accomplished 
on either side up to the summer following, when the news 
that William hmiself had resolved to take the field in Ireland, 
flung the Ulster rebels into a state of enthusiastic rejoicing, 
and filled the royalists with concern. All felt now that the 
crisis was at hand. On the 14th June William landed at Car- 
rickfergus, surrounded by a throng of veteran generals of con- 
tinental fame, princes and peers, English and foreign. " At 
Belfast, his first headquarters, he ascertained the forces at his 
disposal to be upwards of forty thousand men, ' a strange 
medley of all nations' — Scandinavians, Swiss, Dutch, Prussians, 



* Notably, for instance, Fort Charlemont, heldfor theking bythe gallant O'Regan 
with eight hundred men ; besieged by Schomberg at the head of more than as many 
thousands, with a splendid artillery train. The garrison, we are told, were reduced 
by hunger, to the last extremity, and at length offered to surrender if allowed to 
march out with all the honors of war. Schomberg complied, and then, says a chron- 
icler, "eight hundred men with a large number of women and children, came forth, 
eagerly gnawing pieces of dry hides with the hair on ; a small portion of filthy meal 
and a few pounds of tainted beef being the only provisions remaining in the fort. " 



408 THE STOBY OF lEELAND. 

Huguenot-French, English, Scotch, Scotch-Irish, and Anglo- 
Irish." "On the i6th of June, James, informed of William's 
arrival, marched northward at the head of twenty thousand 
men, French and Irish, to meet him. On the22d James was 
at Dundalk, and William at Newry. As the latter advanced, 
the Jacobites retired and finally chose their ground at the 
Boyne, resolved to hazard a battle (even against such odds) 
for the preservation of Dublin and the safety of the province 
of Leinster.* 

No military opinion has ever been uttered of that reso- 
lution, save that it never should have been taken. The won- 
der is not that William forced the Boyne ; all the marvel and 
the madness was that such an army as James's (especially, 
when commanded by such a man) ever attempted to defend it. 
Not merely had William nearly 50,000 men against James's 
23,000 ; but whereas the former force, all save a few thousand 
of the Ulster levies (and these, skilful and experienced sharp- 
shooters), were veteran troops, horse and foot, splendidly 
equipped, and supported by the finest park of artillery per- 
haps ever seen in Ireland ; the latter army, with the exxeption 
of a few thousand French, were nearly all raw recruits hasti- 
ly collected within a few months past from a population un- 
acquainted with the use of firearms, and who had of course, 
never been under fire in the field, and now had of artillery 
but six field pieces to support them. But even if this disparity' 
had never existed, the contrast between the commanders would 
in itself have made all the difference possible. William was an 
experienced military tactician, brave, cool, prescient, firm and 
resolute. James, as duke of York, had distinguished himself 
bravely and honorably on land and sea, so that the charges 
of absolute cowardice often urged against him can scarcely be 
just. But his whole conduct of afifairs in this Irish campaign 
was simply miserable. Weak, vacillating, capricious, selfish, 
it is no wonder that one of the French officers, stung to mad- 
ness by his inexplicable pusillanimity and disgraceful bung- 
ling, should have exclaimed aloud to him : " Sire, if you had 
a hundred kingdoms you would lose them all." A like senti- 

* M'Gee. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 409 

ment found utterance in the memorable words of an Irish 
officer when brought a prisoner after the battle into the pres- 
ence of the Williamite council of war : Exchange coimjiandcrs 
with tis, gentlemen, and even with all the other odds against 
us, tvell figJit the battle over again. 

But now the die was cast. The resolve on James's part 
most falteringly taken,* was fixed at last. Uncle and nephew, 
sovereign and invader, were to put their quarrel to the issue 
of a battle on the morrow. 

*Even when the whole of such arrangements and dispositions for battle as he (after 
innumerable vacillations had ordered, had been made, James, at the last moment, 
on the very eve of battle, once again capriciously changed his mind, said he would 
fall back to Dublin, and actually sent off thither on the moment the baggage, togeth- 
er with six of the twelve cannon which constituted his entire artillery, and some por- 
tion of his troops ! Then, again, after these had gone off beyond recall, he as capri- 
ciously changed his mind once more, and resolved to await battle then and there at 
the Boyne ! 



410 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 



LXIV. — " BEFORE THE BATTLE." 




ARLY on the morning of 
the 30th June, 1690, Wil- 
liam's army approached 
the Boyne in three divi- 
" Such was his impatience 
to behold the enemy he was to 
fight, and the ground they had 
taken up, that by the time the ad- 
vance guard was within view of 
the Jacobite camp, he was in front 
of them, having ridden forward from the head of his own 
division. Then it was that he beheld a sight which, yet un- 
stirred by soldier shout or cannon shot, unstained by blood 
or death, might well gladden the heart of him who gazed, and 
warm with its glorious beauties even a colder nature than 
his ! He stood upon a height, and beheld beneath him and 
beyond him, with the clearness of a map and the gorgeous 
beauty of a dream, a view as beautiful as the eye can scan. 
Doubly beautiful it was then ; because the colors of a golden 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 411 

harvest were blended with green fields and greener trees, and 
a sweet river flowing calmly on in winding beauty through 
a valley whose banks rose gently from its waters, until in lof- 
ty hills they touch the opposite horizon, bending and un- 
dulating into forms of beauty."* " To the south-east the stee- 
ples and castle of Drogheda, from which floated the flags of 
James and Louis.appeared in the mid-distance ; whilst seaward 
might be seen the splendid fleet which attended the motions 
of the Williamite army. But of more interest to the phleg- 
matic but experienced commander, whose eagle eye now^ 
wandered over the enchanting panorama, were the lines of 
white tents, the waving banners, and moving bodiesof troops 
which, to the south-west, between the river and Donore Hill 
indicated the position of James's camp." f 

Having viewed the ground carefully, William selected the 
the Oldbridge fords for the principal attack, and fixed upon 
sites for batteries to command the opposite or Jacobite bank. 
He then rode a short way up the river, and alighted to take 
some refreshment. On his return he was fired upon by some 
field pieces at the other side of the river, the first shot strik- 
ing to the earth one of the group beside the prince. A second 
shot followed ; the ball struck the river bank, glanced upwards, 
and wounded William slightly. He sank upon his horse's 
neck, and a shout of exultation burst from the Irish camp, 
where it was believed he was killed. He was not much hurt, 
however, and rode amongst his own lines to assure his troops 
of his safety ; and shouts of triumph and defiance from the 
Williamite ranks soon apprised the Irish of their error. 

That night — that anxious night ! — was devoted by William 
to the most careful planning and arrangement for the morrow's 
strife. But ere we notice these plans or approach that struggle, 
it may be well to describe for young readers with all possible 
simplicity the battlefield of the Boyne, and the nature of the 
military operations of which it was the scene. 

The Boyne enters the Irish sea a mile or more to the east of 



* Williamite and yacobite Wars in Ireland, by Dr. Cane. 

t The Harp for March, 1859 ; The " Battle of the Boyne," by M. J. M'Cann. 



412 THE STORY OF IRELAND- 

Drogheda, but for a mile or two above or to the west of that 
town, the sea-tides reach and rise and fall in the river. Two 
miles and a half up the river from Drogheda, on the southern 
bank, is the littlp village of Oldbridge. About five miles in a 
direct line due west of Oldbridge (but considerabl}' more by 
the curve of the river, which between these points bends deep- 
ly southward), stands the town of Slane on the northern 
bank. The ground rises rather rapidly from the river at Old- 
bridge, sloping backwards, or southwards, about a mile, to 
the hill of Donore, on the crest of which stand a little ruined 
church (it was a ruin even in 1690) and a grave-yard ; three 
miles and a-half further southward than Donore, on the road 
to Dublin from Oldbridge, stands Duleek. 

James's camp was pitched on the northern slopes of Donore, 
looking down upon the river at Oldbridge. James himself 
slept and had his headquarters in the little ruined church al- 
ready mentioned. 

Directly opposite to Oldbridge, on the northern side of the 
river, the ground, as on the south side, rises rather abruptly, 
sloping backward, forming a hill called TuUyallen. This hill 
is intersected by a ravine north and south, leading down to 
the river, its mouth on the northern brink being directly op- 
posite to Oldbridge. The ravine is now called King William's 
Glen. On and behind TuUyallen Hill, William's camp was 
pitched, looking southwards, towards, but not altogether in 
sight of James's, on the other side of the river. 

At this time of the year, July, the Boyne was fordable at sev- 
eral places up the river towards Slane. The easiest fords, how- 
ever, were at Oldbridge, where, when the sea-tide was at 
lowest ebb, the water was not three feet deep. 

To force these fords, or some of them, was William's task. 
To defend them, was James's endeavor, 

The main difficulty in crossing a ford in the face of an op- 
posing army, is that the enemy almost invariably has batteries 
to play on the fords with shot and shell, and troops ready at 
hand to charge the crossing party the instant they attempt to 
" form " on reaching the bank, if they succeed in reaching it. 
If the defending party have not batteries to perform this ser- 



\ 



THE STORY OP IRELAND. 413 

vice, and if assailants have batteries to "cover" the passage 
of their fording parties by a strong cannonade, i. e. to prevent 
(by shot and shell fired over their heads at the bank they rush 
for) the formation thereof any troops to charge them on reach- 
ing the shore, the ford is, as a general rule, sure to be forced. 

James had not a single cannon or howitzer at the fords. 
From fifty splendid field pieces and mortars William rained 
shot and shell on the Jacobite bank. 

William's plan of attack was to outflank James's left by send- 
ing a strong force up the river to wards Slane, where they were 
to cross and attack the Jacobite flank and rear ; while he, 
with the full strength of his main army (the centre under 
Schomberg senior, the extreme left under himself), would, 
under cover of a furious cannonade, force all the fords at and 
below Oldbridge. 

It was onl}' at the last moment that James was brought to 
perceive the deadly danger of being flanked from Slane, and 
he then detailed merely a force of five hundred dragoons un- 
der the gallant Sir Neal O'Neill to defend the extreme left 
there. His attention until the mid-hour of battle next day, 
was mainly given to the (Oldbridge) fords in his front, and 
and his sole reliance for their defence was on some poor breast- 
works and farm-buildings to shelter musketrj'-men ; trusting 
for the rest to hand-to-hand encounters when the enemy 
should have come across ! In fact, he had no other reliance, 
since he was without artillery to defend the fords. 

All else being settled, ere the anxious council-holders on 
each side sought their couches, the pass-word for the morn- 
ing and the distinguishing badges were announced. The 
Jacobite soldiers wore white cockades. William chosQ green for 
his colors. Every man on his side was ordered to wear a green 
bough or sprig in his hat, and the word was to be " West- 
minster," 



414 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 




LXV. — THE BATTLE OF THE BOYNE. 

(I UESDAY the ist July, 1690, dawned cloudlessly on 
those embattled hosts, and as the early sunlight 
streamed out from over the eastern hills, the stillness of 
that summer morning was broken by the Williamite 
drums and bugles sounding the. gcnerale. In accordance with 
the plan of battle arranged the previous night, the first move on 
William's side was the march of ten thousand men (the Scotch 
foot-guards under Lieutenant-General Douglas, and the Dan- 
ish horse under Meinhart Schomberg), with five pieces of ar- 
tillery, for the bridge of Slane, where, and at the fords be- 
tween itand Ross-na-ree (two miles nearer to Oldbridge), they 
were to cross the river, and turn the left flank of James's army. 
The infantry portion of this force crossing at Slane, while the 
horse were getting over at Ross-na-ree, came upon Sir Neal 
O'Neill and his five hundred dragoons on the extreme left of 
the Jacobite position. For fully an hour did the gallant 
O'Neill hold this force in check, he himself falling mortally 
wounded in the thick of the fight. But soon, the Danish horse 
crossing at Ross-na-ree, the full force of ten thousand men 
united and advanced upon the Jacobite flank, endeavoring to 
get between the royalist army and Duleek. Just at this mo- 
ment, however, there arrived a force of French and Swiss in- 
fantry, and some Irish horse and foot, with six pieces of can- 
non under Lauzun, sent up hurriedly from Oldbridge by James, 
who now began to think all the fight would be on his left. 
Lauzun so skilfully posted his checking force on the slope of 
a hill with a marsh in front, that Douglas and Schomberg, 
notwithstanding their enormous numerical superiority, halted 
and did not venture on an attack until they had sent for and 
obtained an additional supply of troops. Then only did their 
infantry advance, while the cavalry, amounting to twenty-four 
squadrons, proceeded round the bog and extended on towards 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 410 

Duleek, completely overlapping or flanking the Jacobite left 
wing. 

Meanwhile, about ten o'clock in the forenoon, Schomberg 
the elder (in charge of the Williamite centre), finding that 
his son and Douglas had made good their way across on the 
extreme right, and had the Jacobites well engaged there, gave 
the word for the passage of Oldbridge fords. Tyrconnel's 
regiment of foot guards, with other Irish foot (only a few of 
them being armed with muskets), occupied the ruined breast- 
work fences and farm buildings on the opposite side ; having 
some cavalry drawn up behind the low hills close by to sup- 
port them. But the VVilliamites had a way for emptying 
these breastworks and clearing the bank for their fording 
parties. Fifty pieces of cannon that had during the morning 
almost completely battered down the temporary defences on 
the southern bank, now opened simultaneously, shaking the 
hills with their thunders, and sweeping the whole of the Irish 
position with their iron storm ; while the bombs from Wil- 
liam's mortar batteries searched every part of the field. Under 
cover of this tremendous fire, to which the Irish had not even 
a single field-piece to reply,* the van of the splendidly-ap- 
pointed Williamite infantry issued from king William.'s Glen, 
and plunged into the stream. " Count Solme's Dutch Blue 
Guards, two thousand strong, reputed the best infantry reg- 
iment in the world, led the way at the principal ford opposite 
Oldbridge, followed by the Brandenburghers, Close on their 
left were the Londonderries and Enniskillen foot ; below 
whom entered a long column of French Huguenots, under the 
veteran Calimotte. A little below the Huguenots were the 
main body of the English, under Sir John Hanmer and Count 
Nassau ; and still lower down, the Danes, under Colonel Cutts. 
In all about ten thousand of the flower of the infantry of 
Europe, struggling through a quarter of a mile of the river, 
and almost hidden beneath flashing arms and green boughs."t 



* The six retained by James had been forwarded to Lauzun on the extreme left, 
t Battle of the Boyne, by M. J. M'Cann. No one desiring to trace closely, and 
fully understand the events of this memorable battle, should omit to read (Sir Wil- 



416 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

As they neared the southern bank, the roar of cannon ceased 
— a breathless pause of suspense ensued. Then a wild cheer 
rung from the Irish lines ; and such of the troops as had guns 
opened fire. An utterly ineffective volley it was ; so ill-direct- 
ed, that the Williamite accounts say it did not kill a man ; 
and then the veterans of a hundred continental battle-fields 
knew they had only raw Irish peasant levies on the bank be- 
fore them. There being no artillery (as already frequently 
noted) to play on the fording parties while crossing, and there 
being so little water in the river, the passage of the fords was 
easily effected. 

The Dutch guards were the first to the bank, where they 
instantly formed. Here they were charged by the Irish foot ; 
but before the withering fire of the cool and skilful foreign 
veterans, these raw levies were cut up instantly, and driven 
flying behind the fences. The truth became plain after two 
or three endeavors to bring them to the charge, that they 
were not fit for such work. Now, however, was the time for 
Hamilton, at the head of the only well-disciplined Irish force 
on the field — the horse — to show what his men could do. 
The hedges, which had not been levelled for the purpose, did 
not prevent their charge. The ground literally trembled be- 
neath the onset of this splendid force. Irresistible as an ava- 
lanche, they struck the third battalion of Dutch Blues while 
yet in the stream, and hurled them back. The Branden- 
burghers turned and fled. The Huguenots, who were not so 
quick in escape, were broken through, and their commander 
Caliraotte cut down. 

Schomberg had remained on the northern bank with a cho- 
sen body of foot as a reserve. He saw with excitement the 
sudden crash of the Irish horse and its effects; and was pre- 
pared to push forward the reserve, when word reached him 
that his old friend Calimotte had fallen ! Without waiting 
for helmet or cuirass he dashed forward, his white hair float- 



liam) Wilde's beautiful and valuable work the Boyne and Black-water. T follow as 
closely as possible the briefer accounts of the battle by Mr. M'Cann in the Harp, and 
by Dr. Cane in his Williamite Wars, with occasional corrections from Macarice Ex- 
cidium, from Sir William Wilde's work, and other authorities. 



THE STOBY OF IRELAND. 417 

ing in the wind. In the river he met and strove to rally the 
flying Huguenots. " Come on, come on, messieurs ; behold 
your persecutors," cried the old warrior, alluding to the 
French infantry on the other side. They were the last words 
he ever spoke. Tyrconnel's Irish horse-gUards, returning 
from one of their charges, again broke clear through and 
through the Huguenots, cleaving Schomberg's head with 
two fearful sabre wounds, and lodging a bullet in his neck. 
When the wave of battle had passed, the lifeless body of the 
old general lay amongst the human debris that marked its 
track. He had quickly followed, not only across the Boyne 
but to another world, his brave companion in arms whose fall 
he had sought to avenge. 

All this time William, at the head of some five thousand of 
the flower of his cavalry, lay behind the slopes of Tullyallen, 
close by the lowest ford on the extreme left of his army, wait- 
ing anxiously for news of Shomberg's passage at Oldbridge. 
But now learning that his centre had been repulsed, he dis- 
engaged his wounded arm from its sling, and calling aloud to 
his troops to follow him, plunged boldly into the stream. The 
water was deepest at this ford, for it was nearest to the sea, and 
the tide, which was out at the hour fixed for crossing in the 
morning, was now beginning to rise. William and his five 
thousand cavalry reached the south bank with difficult}'. 
Marshalling his force on the shore with marvellous celerity, 
he did not wait to be charged, but rushed furiously forward 
upon the Irish right flank. The Irish command at this point 
was held by the young Duke of Berwick with some squadrons 
of Irish horse, some French infantry, and Irish pikemen. The 
Irish were just starting to charge the Williamites at the back, 
when the latter, as already noted, dashed forward to anticipate 
such a movement by a charge upon them, so that both bodies 
of horse were simultaneously under way, filled with all the 
vehemence and fury which could be imparted by consciousness 
of the issues depending on the collision now at hand. As they 
neared each other the excitement became choking, and above 
the thunder of the horses' feet on the sward could be heard 
bursting from a hundred hearts, the vehement passionate 



418 THE STORY OF lEELAND. 

shouts of every troop officer " Close — close up ; for God's sake, 
closer ! closer ! " On they came, careering like the whirlwind 

and then ! — What a crash ! Like a thunder-bolt the Irish 

horse broke clear through the Williamites. Those who watch- 
ed from the hill above, say that when both those furious billows 
met, there was barely a second of time (a year of agonized 
suspense it seemed at the moment to some of the lookers on) 
during which the wild surges rendered it uncertain which one 
was to bear down the other. But in one instant the gazers 
beheld the white plumed form of young Berwick at the head ' 
of the Irish cavalry far into the middle of the Williamite mass ; 
and soon, with a shout — a roar that rose over all the din of bat- 
tle a frantic peal of exultation and vengeance — the Irish ab- 
solutely swept the Dutch and Enniskillen cavalry down the 
slopes upon the river, leaving in their track only a broken 
crowd of unhorsed or ridden-down foes, whom the Irish pike- 
men finished. 

But now the heavy firing from Oldbridge announced that 
the Williamite centre was crossing once more, and soon it 
became clear that even though the Irish repulsed man for man, 
there still were enough of their foes to make a lodgment on 
the bank too powerful to be resisted. Bodies of his troops 
streaming down to him from the centre, gladly proclaimed to 
William that they were across again there. Rallying his left 
wing with these aids he advanced once more. He now had 
infantry to check the ever-dreaded charges of the Irish horse, 
and so pressing steadily onward, he drove the Irish back along 
the lane leading from the river to Sheephouse, a small hamlet 
half way between Donore and the Boyne. Here the Irish 
were evidently prepared to make a stand. William, who 
throughout this battle exhibited a bravery — a cool, coura- 
geous recklessness of personal peril, which no general ever 
surpassed, now led in person a charge by all his left wing 
forces. But he found himself flanked by the Irish foot posted 
in the hedges and cabins, and confronted by the invincible 
cavalry. He turned a moment from the head of the Ennis- 
killens and rode to the rearto hurry up the Dutch. The Ennis- 
killens, seeing Berwick in front about to charge, allege that 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 419 

they thought the king's movement was to be followed by them, 
so they turned, and William coming up with the Dutch, met 
them flying pell mell. He now handed over the Dutch to 
Ginckle, and took himself the unsteady Ulstermen in charge. 
He appealed entreatingly to them to rally and stand by him, 
and not to ruin all by their weakness at such a critical moment. 
By this time the Huguenot horse also came up, and the whole 
combining, William a third time advanced. The Williamite 
accounts describe to us the conflict that now ensued at this 
point as one of the most desperate cavalry combats of the 
whole war. According to the same authorities, the Dutch re- 
coiled, and Ginckle had to throw himself in their rear to pre- 
vent a disordered flight* William, dauntless and daring, was 
in the thickest of the fight, cheering, exhorting, leading his 
men. The gallant Berwick and Sheldon, on the other hand, 
now assisted by some additional Irish hurried up from the 
centre, pressed their foes with resistless energy. Brave and 
highly disciplined those foes were undoubtedly ; neverthe- 
less, once more down the lane went the Williamite horse and 
foot, with the Irish cavalry in full pursuit. 

This time, "like Rupert at the battle of Edge Hill," the 
Irish " pursued too far." While all that has been described 
so far was occurring on the Jacobite right, at the centre 
(Oldbridge), overwhelming masses of William's cavalry and 
infantry had notwithstanding the best efforts of the French 
and Irish foot, forced all the fords and mastered everything 
at that point. In detached masses they were now penetrating 
all the approaches to Donore, in the direction of Sheephouse, 
driving the Jacobites before them. While the Irish cavalry 
on the right, as above described, were in pursuit of the 
Williamites, the lane leading to Sheephouse was left unoc- 
cupied. This being observed by two regiments of Williamite 
dragoons, they quickly dismounted and lined the hedges of 
the lane, at the same time sending word to Ginckle to take 
advantage of what they were about to do. The Irish cavalry 
after their charge, now returned slowly through the lane to 



Story, 



420 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

resume their position. Suddenly and to their utter con- 
sternation they found themselves assailed by a close and 
deadly fusillade from the ambuscade around them, so close, 
so deadly, the guns almost touched each horseman ; and 
there was no room for evolution in the narrow place. While 
they were thus disordered, whole masses of troops were flung 
upon them ; Ginckle in their rear, their lately routed but now 
rallied foes on the right, and all combining, pressed the over- 
borne but not outbraved heroes up the lane upon Donore. 

Here the Irish turned doggedly for a resolute stand ; and 
William saw that though forced indeed from the river, they 
considered themselves far from being beaten yet. After a few 
ineffectual charges, he suspended the attack, in order to re- 
form his ranks for a grand assault in full force. 

It was at this moment — while his devoted little army, still 
all undaunted, were nerving themselves for the crisis of their 
fate — that James, yielding readily to the advice of Tyrconnel 
and Lauzun (which quite accorded with his own anxiety), 
fled precipitately for Dublin ; taking with him as a guard for 
his person the indignant and exasperated Sarsfield and his 
splendid cavalry regiment, at that moment so sorely needed 
on the field ! 

Some Irish writers, embittered against James for this 
flight, go so far as to contend that had he remained and 
handled his troops skilfully, it was still within possibility to 
turn the fortunes of the day, and drive William beyond the 
river. The point is untenable. The Jacobite left, right, and 
centre had been driven in, and the Williamite forces were all 
now in full conjunction in front. It was possible to hold 
William in check; to dispute with him each mile of ground 
to Dublin ; but Napoleon himself could not {ivith only six field 
pieces) have beaten William at the Boyne. 

It is certain, however, that the Irish troops themselves 
were not of this mind ; for when they heard that Donore was 
to be relinquished, and that they must fall back on Duleek, 
they murmured and groaned aloud, and passionately declar- 
ed it was snatching from them a certain victory ! * Never- 

* Macarice Excidium, page 5i. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 421 

theless, to fall back was now essential to their safety ; for 
already bodies of VVilliamite troops were streaming awa}^ on 
the Jacobite left towards Duleek, designing to get in the 
Irish rear. To meet this movement, the Irish left was swung 
round accordingly, and pushed on also, mile for mile, with 
the flanking Williamites ; until eventually the struggle in 
front was virtually abandoned by both parties, and the com- 
petition was all as to the manoeuvres and counter-manoeuvres 
on the Duleek road ; the Irish falling back, yet facing the 
enemy, and making their retreat the retiring movement of an 
overpowered army, by no means the flight of one routed. 
At Duleek they turned to bay, taking up a strong position 
on the south of the little stream which passes the town. 
The Williamites came on, and having looked at the ground 
and the disposition of the Jacobite forces, deemed it well to 
offer battle no further, but to rest content, as well they might, 
with the substantial victory of having forced the Boyne and 
vanquished the Stuart king. 




422 THE STOllY OF IRELAND. 



LXVI. — HOW JAMES ABANDONED THE STRUGGLE; BUT THE 
IRISH WOULD NOT GIVE UP. 



<^ 



"O 




^^ 



ITH all the odds at which this battle was fought, and 
important as were its ultimate consequences, the im- 
mediate gain for William was simply that he had 
crossed the Boyne. He had not a captured gun, and 
scarcely a standard,! to show for his victory. The van- 
quished had, as we have seen, effected a retreat in almost 
perfect order, bringing off the few guns they possessed at the 
beginning of the fight. In fine, of the usual tokens of a vic- 
tory — namely, captured guns, standards, baggage, or pris- 
oners — William's own chroniclers confess he had nought to 
show ; while, according to the same accounts, his loss in killed 
and wounded nearly equalled that of the royalists. 

This was almost entirely owing to the Irish and French 
cavalry regiments. They saved the army. They did more — 
their conduct on that day surrounded the lost cause with a 
halo of glory which defeat could not dim. 

Could there have been any such " exchange of command- 
ers" as the captured Irish officer challenged — had the Irish 
a general of real ability, of heart and courage, zeal and 
determination, to command them, — all that had so far been 
lost or gained at the Bo3'ne would have proved of little ac- 
count indeed. But James seemed imbecile. He fled early in 
the day, reached Dublin before evening; recommended that 
no further struggle should be attempted in Ireland ; and 
advised his adherents to make the best terms they could for 
themselves. He had seen a newly raised and only half- 
armed Irish foot regiment, it seems, torn bv shot and shell, 



t Story, the Williamite chaplain, says: "Only one or two," and complains of 
"the incompleteness of the victory." 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 423 

break and fly in utter confusion when cliarged by cavalry, 
and the miserable man could talk of nothing but of their bad 
conduct that had lost him the crown ! While he, most fleet 
at flying, was thus childishly scolding in Dublin Castle, the 
devoted Irish were even yet keeping William's fifty thousand 
men at bay, retreating slowly and in good order from 
Donore ! 

At five o'clock next morning he quitted Dublin ; and, 
leaving two troops of horse " to defend the bridge at Bray 
as long as they could, should the enemy come up," he fled 
through Wicklow to the south of Ireland. At Kinsale he 
hurriedly embarked on board the French squadron, and 
sailed for Brest, where he arrived on the 20th July ; being 
himself the first messenger with the news of his defeat. 

The Irish army on reaching Dublin found they were 
without king or captain-general. They had been abandoned 
and advised to make favor with the conqueror. This, how- 
ever, was not their mind. James mistook his men. He 
might fly and resign if he would ; but the cause — the country 
— La Patrie — remained. So the Irish resolved not to surren- 
der. They had fought for James at the Boyne ; they would 
now fight for Ireland on the Shannon. 

"To Limerick! To Limerick!" became the cry. The 
superior wisdom of the plan of campaign advised by Sarsfield 
from the beginning — defence of the line of the Shannon — was 
now triumphantly vindicated. Freely surrendering as in- 
defensible, Dublin, Kilkenny, Waterford, and Dungannon, to 
Limerick the Irish now turned from all directions. The chron- 
icles of the time state that the soldiers came to that rally- 
ing point from the most distant places, " in companies, in scores, 
in groups; nay, in twos and threes," without any order or 
command to that affect. On the contrary, James had directed 
them all to surrender, and every consideration of personal 
safety counselled them to disband and seek their homes. 
But no! They had an idea that on the Shannon Sarsfield 
would yet make a gallant stand beneath the green flag; and 
so thither their steps were bent! 

AU eyes now turned to Athlone and Limerick. The former 



424 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

place was at this time held by an old hero, whose name de- 
served to be linked with that of Sarsfield — Colonel Richard 
Grace, a confederate Catholic royalist of 164 1, now laden 
with years, but as bold of heart and brave of spirit as when 
first he drew a sword for Ireland. To reduce Athlone, William 
detached from his main army at DubUn, Lieutenant-General 
Douglas with twelve thousand men, a train of twelve cannon, 
and two mortars. The town stood then, as it stands now, 
partly on the Leinster, and partly on the Connacht side of the 
Shannon river, or rather of the short and narrow neck of 
water, which at that point links two of the "loughs" or wide 
expanses of the river, that like a great chain of lakes runs 
north and south for fifty miles between Limerick and Lough 
Allen. That portion of Athlone on the west, or Connacht 
side of the river was called the " Irish town ;" that on the 
east or Leinster side, the English town." The castle and 
chief fortifications lay on the west side. The governor 
deemed the English town untenable against Douglas's 
artillery, so he demolished that entire suburb, broke down 
the bridge, and put all defences on the western side of the 
river into the best condition possible to withstand assault. 

On the 17th July, 1690, Douglas arrived before Athlone, 
and sent an insolent message to the governor demanding im- 
mediate surrender. Veteran Grace drew a pistol from his 
belt, and firing over the head of the affrighted envoy, answered 
to the effect that "that was his answer" tJih time, but some- 
thing severer would be his reply to any such message repeat- 
ed. Next day Douglas with great earnestness planted his 
batteries, and for two days following played on the old castle 
walls with might and main. But he received in return such 
compliments of the same kind from Colonel Grace as to make 
him more than dubious as to the result of his bombardment. 
After a week had been thus spent, news full of alarm for 
Douglas reached him. Sarsfield — name of terror already — 
was said to be coming up from Limerick to catch him at 
Athlone ! If old Grace would only surrender now ; just to 
let him, Douglas, get away in time, it would be a blessed re- 
lief ! But lo ! So far from thinking about surrendering, on 



THE STOEY OF lEELAND. 425 

the 24th the old hero oa the Connacht side hung out the red 
fiag.* Douglas, maddened at this, opened on the instant a 
furious cannonade, but received just as furious a salute from 
Governor Grace, accompanied moreover by the most unkind 
shouts of derision and defiance from the western shore. 
Douglas now gave up : there was nothing for it but to run ! 
Sarsfield might be upon him if he longer delayed. So he and 
his ten thousand fled from Athlone, revenging themselves for 
their discomfiture there by ravaging the inhabitants of all the 
country through which they passed. Old Governor Grace 
made a triumphal circuit of Athlone walls, amidst the en- 
thusiastic ovations of the garrison and townspeople. Athlone 
was saved — this time. Once again, however, it was to endure 
a siege as memorable, and to make a defence still more glori- 
ous, though not, like this one, crowned with victory ! 

* Which betokens resistance a /' entrance ; refusal of capitulation or quarter. 



426 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 




LXVII. — HOW WILLIAM SAT DOWN BEFORE LIMERICK AND BE- 
GAN THE SIEGE. SARSFIELD'S MIDNIGHT RIDE — THE FATE 
OF WILLIAM'S SIEGE TRAIN. 

[[PON Limerick now all interest centred, On the 7th of 
August William reached Cahirconlish, about seven 
»^ , miles south-east of the city, where he encamped, his 
^v'^force amounting to about twenty-eight thousand men. 
On the evening of the 8th, Douglas with the ten thousand 
runaway besiegers of Athlone, joined him, raising his force to 
thirty-eight thousand. At this time there were, on the other 
hand, in the city barely ten thousand infantry ; about four 
thousand cavalry being encamped on the Clare side. When 
the courtier commanders, Tyrconnel and Lauzun, had esti- 
mated William's forces, and viewed the defences of the city, 
they absolutely scoffed at the idea of defending it, and direct- 
ed its surrender. Sarsfield and the Irish royalists, however, 
boldly declared they would not submit to this, and said they 
would themselves defend the city. In this they were 
thoroughly and heartily seconded and supported by the gal- 
lant Berwick. Lauzun again inspected the walls, gates, bas- 
tions, etc., and as his final opinion declared that the place 
^'■couXdhQtakQmuith roasted apples'' Hereupon Tyrconnel, 
Lauzun and all the French and Swiss departed for Galway, 
taking with them everything they could control of stores, 
arms, and ammunition ! 

This looked like desertion and betrayal indeed. The taking 
away of the stores and ammunition, after Sarsfield and Ber- 
wick, and even the citisens themselves, had declared they 
would defend the city, was the most scandalous part of the 
proceeding. Nevertheless, undismayed, Sarsfield, assisted by 
a French officer of engineers, De Boisseleau, who, dissenting 
from Lauzun's estimate of the defences, volunteered to remain, 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 427 

boldly set about preparing Limerick for siege. Happily for 
the national honor of Ireland, the miserable court party thus 
cruelly deserted Limerick. That base abandonment left all 
the glory of its defence to the brave heroes who remained. 

De Boisseleau was named governor of the city, and Sars- 
field commander of the horse. It was decided that the latter 
force should be posted on the Clare side of the Shannon, op- 
posite the city (with which communication was kept up by 
the bridges), its chief duty being at all hazards to prevent the 
Williamites from crossing to that shore at any of the fords 
above the city. De Boisseleau meanwhile was to conduct 
the engineering operations of the defence. 

It was true enough that Lauzun, when he scoffed at those 
defences, saw very poor chance for the city, as far as ramparts 
of stone and mortar were concerned. " The city," we are 
told, " had neither outworks, glacis, fosses, half-moons, or 
horn works. An old wall flanked with a few tottering towers, 
but without either ditch or parapet, was its only defence."* 
However, De Boisseleau soon set to work to improve upon 
these, mounting batteries, and digging covered ways or coun- 
terscarps ; the citizens, gentle and simple, and even the women 
and children, working from sunrise to sunset at the construc- 
tion or strengthening of defences. 

Early on the 9th of August, 1690, William drew from his 
encampment at Cahirconlish, and, confident of an easy victory, 
sat down before Limerick. That day he occupied himself in 
selecting favorable sites for batteries to command the city, 
and in truth, owing to the formation of the ground, the city 
was at nearly every point nakedly exposed to his guns. He 
next sent in a summons to surrender, but De Boisseleau 
courteously replied that " he hoped he should merit his opin- 
ion more by a vigorous defence than a shameful surrender of 
a fortress which he had been entrusted with."t 

The siege now began. Williams's bombardment however, 
proceeded slowly ; and the Limerick gunners, on the other 



* First Siege of Limerick : M. J. M'Cann. 
t. Memoirs of King yames the Second. 



428 THE STOBY OF IRELAND. 

hand, were much more active and vigorous than he had ex- 
pected. On Monday, the nth, their fire compelled him to 
shift his field train entirely out of range ; and on the next 
day, as if intent on following up such practice, their balls 
fell so thickly about his own tent, killing several persons, 
that he had to shift his own quarters also. But in a day or 
two he meant to be in a position to pay back these attentions 
with heavy interest, and to reduce those old walls despite all 
resistance. In fine, there was coming up to him from Waterford 
a magnificent battering train, together with immense stores 
of ammunition, and, what was nearly as effective for him as 
the siege train, a number of pontoon-boats of tin or sheet cop- 
per, which would soon enable him to pass the Shannon where 
he pleased. So he took very cooly the resistance so far of- 
fered from the city. For in a day more Limerick would be 
absolutely at his mercy ! 

So thought William ; and so seemed the inevitable fact, 
But there was bold heart and an active brain at work at 
that very moment planning a deed destined to immoralize its 
author to all time, and to baffle William's now all-but-accom- 
plished designs on Limerick ! 

On Sunday, the loth, the battering train and its convoy 
had reached Cashel. On Monday, the nth, they reached 
a place called Ballyneety, within nine or ten miles of the 
Williamite camp. The country through which they had pass- 
ed was all in the hands of their own garrisons or patrols ; yet 
they had so important and precious a charge that they had 
watched it jealously so far ; but now they were virtually at 
the camp — only a few miles in its rear: and so the convoy, 
when night fell, drew the siege train and the vast line of am- 
munition wagons, the pontoon boats and store-loads, into a 
field close to an old ruined castle, and, duly posting night 
sentries, gave themselves to repose. 

That day, an Anglicised Irishman, one Manus O'Brien, a 
Protestant landlord in the neighborhood of Limerick, came 
into the Williamite camp with a piece of news. Sarsfield at 
the head of five hundred picked men, had ridden oflfthe night 
before on some mysterious enterprise in the direction of Killa- 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 429 

loe ; and the informer, from Sarsfield's character judged 
rightly that something important was afoot, and earnestly as- 
sured the Williamites that nothing was too desperate for that 
commander to accomplish. 

The Williamite officers made little of this. They thought the 
fellow was only anxious to make much of a trifle, by way of 
securing favor for himself. Besides, they knew of nothing in 
the direction of Killaloe that could affect them. William, at 
length, was informed of the story. He, too, failed to discern 
what Sarsfield could be at; but his mind anxiously reverting 
to his grand battering train — albeit it was now barely a few 
miles off — he, to make safety doubly sure, ordered Sir John 
Lanier to proceed at once with five hundred horse to meet 
the convoy. By some curious chance, Sir John — perhaps 
deeming his night ride quite needless — did not greatly hurry 
to set forth. At two o'clock, Tuesday morning, instead of at 
nine o'clock on Monday evening, he rode leisurely off. His 
delay of five hours made all the difference in the world, as 
we shall see. 

It was indeed true that Sarsfield, on Sunday night, had se- 
cretly quitted his camp on the Clare side, at the head of a 
chosen body of his best horsemen ; and, true enough, also, 
that it was upon an enterprise worthy of his reputation he had 
set forth. In fine, he had heard of the approach of the siege 
train, and had planned nothing less than its surprise, capture, 
and destruction ! 

On Sunday night he rode to Killaloe, distant twelve 
miles above Limerick on the river. The bridge here was 
guarded by a party of the enemy; but favored by the dark- 
ness, he proceeded further up the river until he came to a 
ford near Ballyvally, where he crossed the Shannon, and 
passed into Tipperary county. The country around him now 
was all in the enemy's hands; but he had one with him as a 
guide on this eventful occasion, whose familiarity with the 
locality enabled Sarsfield to evade all the Williamite patrols, 
and but for whose services it may be doubted if his ride this 
night had not been his last. This was Hogan, the rapparee 
chief, immortalised in local traditions as " Galloping Hogan." 



430 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

By paths and passes known only to riders " native to the sod," 
he turned into the deep gorges of Silver Mines, and ere day 
had dawned was bivouacked in a wild ravine of the Keeper 
Mountains. Here he lay /^r</z^ all day on Monday. When 
night fell there was anxious tightening of horsegirths and 
girding of swords with Sarsfield's five hundred. They knew 
the siege train was at Cashel on the previous day, and must 
by this time have reached near to the Williamite lines. The 
midnight ride before them was long, devious, difficult, and 
perilous ; the task at the end of it was crucial and momentous 
indeed. Led by their trust}' guide, they set out southward, 
still keeping in by-ways and mountain roads. Meanwhile, as 
already mentioned the siege train and convoy had that 
evening reached Ballyneety, where the guns were parked and 
convoy bivouacked. It was three o'clock in the morning 
when Sarsfield, reaching within a mile or two of the spot, 
learnt from a peasant that the prize was now not far off ahead 
of him. And here we encounter a fact which gives the touch 
of true romance to the whole story ! It happened, by one of 
those coincidences that often startle us with their singularity, 
that the pass-word with the Williamite convoy on that night 
was "■ Sarsfield\'' That Sarsfield obtained the pass- word 
before he reached the halted convoy, is also unquestionable, 
though how he came by his information is variously stated. 
The painstaking historian of Limerick states that from a wo- 
man, wife of a sergeant in the Williamite convoy, unfeelingly 
left behind on the road by her own party in the evening, but 
most humanely and kindly treated by Sarsfield's men, the 
word was obtained.* Riding softly to within a short distance 
of the place indicated, he halted and sent out a few trusted 
scouts to scan the whole position narrowly. They returned 
reporting that besides the sentries there were only a few 
score troopers drowsing beside the watch fires, on guard ; 
the rest of the convoy being sleeping in all the immunity of 
fancied safety. Sarsfield now gave his final orders — silence 
or death, till they were in upon the sentries ; then, forward 

* Lenihan's History of Limerick, p. 232. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 431 

like a lightning flash upon the guards. One of the Williamite 
sentries fancied he heard the beat of horsehoofs approaching 
him ; he never dreamt of foes ; he thought it must be one of 
their own patrols. And truly enough, through the gloom he 
saw the figure of an officer evidently at the head of a body of 
cavalry, whether phantom or reality he could not tell. The 
sentry challenged, and, still imagining he had friends, demand- 
ed the " word." Suddenly, as if from the spirit land, and 
with a wild, weird shout that startled all the sleepers, the 
" phantom troop" shot past like a thunderbolt ; the leader 
crying as he drew his sword, ^^Sarsfield is the word, and Sars- 
field is the man ! " The guards dashed forward, the bugles 
screamed the alarm, the sleepers rushed to arms, but theirs 
was scarcely an eflfort. The broadswords of Sarsfield's five 
hundred were in their midst ; and to the affrighted gaze of the 
panic-stricken victims, that five hundred seemed thousands ! 
Short, desperate, and bloody was that scene ; so short, so sud- 
den, so fearful, that it seemed like the work of incantation. 
In a few minutes the whole of the convoy were cut down or 
dispersed ; and William's splendid siege train was in Sars- 
field's hands ! But his task was as yet only half accomplished. 
Morning was approaching ; William's camp was barely eight 
or ten miles distant, and thither some of the escaped had hur- 
riedly fled. There was scant time for the important work 
yet to be done. The siege guns and mortars were filled with 
powder, and each muzzle buried in the earth ; upon and 
around the guns were piled the pontoon boats, the contents of 
the ammunition wagons, and all the stores of various kinds, 
of which there was a vast quantity. A train of powder was 
laid to this huge pyre, and Sarsfield, removing all the wound- 
ed Williamites to a safe distance,* drew off his men, halting 
them while the train was being fired. There was a flash that 
lighted all the heavens and showed with dazzling brightness 
the country for miles around. Then the ground rocked and 
heaved beneath the gazer's feet, as, with a deafening roar 
that seemed to rend the firmament, the vast mass burst into 

* Even the Williamite chroniclers make mention of Sarsfield's kindness to the 
wounded at Ballyneety. 



432 ■ THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

the sky ; and as suddenly all was gloom again ! The sentinels 
on Limerick walls heard that awful peal. It rolled like a thun- 
der storm away by the heights of Cratloe, and wakened sleep- 
ers amidst the hills of Clare. William heard it too ; and he at 
least needed no interpreter of that fearful sound. He knew 
in that moment that his splendid siege train had perished, des- 
troyed by a feat that only one man could have so planned and 
executed ; an achievement destined to surround with unfading 
glory the name of Patrick Sarsfield ! 

Sir John Lanier's party, coming up in nowise rapidly, saw 
the flash that, as they said, gave broad daylight for a second, 
and felt the ground shake beneath them as if by an earthquake, 
and then their leader found he was just in time to be too late. 
Rushing on he sighted Sarsfield's rear-guard ; but there were 
memories of the Irish cavalry at the Boyne in no way encour- 
aging him to force an encounter. From the Williamite camp 
two other powerful bodies of horse were sent out instantly 
on the explosion being heard, to surround Sarsfield and cut 
him off from the Shannon. But all was vain, and on Tuesday 
evening he and his Five Hundred rode into camp amidst a 
scene such as Limerick had not witnessed for centuries. The 
whole force turned out; the citizens came with laurel boughs 
to line the way, and as he marched in amidst a conqueror's 
ovation, the gunners on the old bastions across the river gave 
a royal salute to him whom they all now hailed as the saviour 
of the city ! 



[■@^ 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 435 



LXVIII. — HOW WILLIAM PROCURED A NEW SIEGE TRAIN AND 
BREACHED THE WALL. HOW THE WOMEN OF LIMERICK WON 
THEIR FAME IN IRISH HISTORY. HOW THE BREACH WAS 
STORMED AND THE MINE SPRUNG. HOW WILLIAM FLED 
FROM " UNCONQUERED LIMERICK.' 



Tr " 




o||j N the Williamite camp the event caused proportionate 
)i dismay, depression, and discouragement. But Wil- 
I'i Ham was not a man easily thwarted or disconcerted. 
A week later he had another siege train of thirty-six 
guns and four mortars brought up from Waterford, 
pouring red hot shot into the devoted city. A perfect storm 
of bombs, " fire-balls, ""carcasses," and other diabolical con- 
trivances, rained upon every part of the town, firing it in 
several places. Sarsfield and De Boisseleau now ordered that 
all the women and children should withdraw into the Clare 
suburb. The women en masse rebelled against the order ! 
They vehemently declared that no terrors should cause them 
to quit their husbands and brothers in this dreadful hour^ 
fighting for God and country. They had already bravely 
aided in erecting the defences ; they were now resolved to 
aid in the struggle behind them, ready to die in the breach or 
on the walls beside their kindred, ere the hated foe should 
enter Limerick. 

And the women of Limerick were true to that resolve ! 
Then might be seen, say the chroniclers, day after day, wo- 
men, old and young, full of enthusiasm and determination, 
laboring in the breaches, mines, and counterscarps, digging 
the earth, filling the gabions, piling the shot, and drawing up 
ammunition, while around them showered balls, bombs, and 
grenades. 

By this time the surface of the whole of the surrounding 
suburbs on the southern side was cut up into a vast maze of 
"zig-zags," trenches, and galleries, by the besiegers. On the 



436 THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 

26th their trenches were withhi a few feet of the pallisades, 
and a breach had been made in the walls at St. John's Gate. 
William moreover pursued raining to a great extent. But if 
he mined, Sarsfield countermined, and it turned out that the 
Irish mines were far beyond anything the siegers could have 
credited. In fact the scientific skill, the ingenuity and fertil- 
ity of engineering resorts, appliances, and devices, exhibited 
by the defenders of Limerick have seldom been surpassed. 
The miraculous magic of devoted zeal and earnest activity 
transformed the old city wall into a line of defences such as 
Todleben himself in our own day might gaze upon with ad- 
miration.* Food, however, was lamentably scarce, but in 
truth none of the besieged gave thought to any privation ; 
their whole souls were centred in one great object — defence 
■of the walls, defeat of the foe. 

On Wednesday, the 27th x\ugust, the breach having been 
still further increased by a furious bombardment, William 
gave orders for the assault. Ten thousand men were ordered 
to support the storming party ; and at half-past three in the 
afternoon, at a given signal, five hundred grenadiers leaped 
from the trenches, fired their pieces, flung their grenades, and 
in a few moments had mounted the breach. The Irish were 
not unprepared, although at that moment the attack was not 
expected. Unknown to the besiegers, Boisseleau had caused 
an intrenchment to be made inside the breach. Behind this 
intrenchment he had planted a few pieces of cannon, and from 
these a cross fire now opened with murderous effect on the 
assailants, after they had filled the space between the breach 
and the entrenchment. For a moment thev halted — stag- 
gered by this fatal surprise; but thev next pushed forward 
with the courage and fury of lions. A bloody hand-to-hand 
struggle ensued. Spear and dagger, sword and butted mus- 
ket could alone be used, and they were brought into deadly 
requisition. The instant William found his storming party 

* Among numerous other happy resorts and ingenious adaptions of the mean'; at 
hand to the purpose of defence, we read that, wool stores being numerous in the city, 
the wool was packed into strong sacks and cases, a lining of which was hung out over 
the weakest of the walls, completely deadening the effect of the enemy's shot. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 437 

had fastened well upon the breach, the supports in thousands 
were flung forward. On the Irish side, too, aids were hurried 
up ; but eventually, with a tremendous rush, the assaulting 
party burst through their opponents, and in a moment more 
poured into the town. 

That feat which usually gives victory to an assault, was 
however, in this instance, only the sure occasion of repulse 
and utter defeat for William's regiments. The news that the 
foe had penetrated into the town, so far from causing dismay to 
inhabitants or garrison, seemed to act like the summons of a 
magician on the countless hosts of enchantment. Down 
through street, and^ane, and ally poured the citizens, women 
and men; the butcher with his axe, the shipwright with his 
adze ; each man with such weapon as he had been able most 
readily to grasp ; the women, " like liberated furies," fling- 
ing stones, bricks, glass bottles, delft- ware, and other missiles, 
with fury on the foe. Some of the Irish cavalry on the Clare 
side, hearing the news, dashed across the bridges, " the pave- 
ments blazing beneath the horses' hoofs as they galloped to 
Ball's Bridge, where dismounting and flinging their horses 
loose, they charged into Broad Street, and sword in hand 
joined their countrymen in the melcer Even the phlegmatic 
William under whose eye the assault was made, became ex- 
cited as he gazed on the struggle from "Cromwell's Fort," ever 
and anon ordering forward additional troops to the sustain- 
ment of his assaulting column. For three liours this bloody 
hand-to-hand fight in the streets and the breach went on. 
The women, says Story (the Williamite chaplain), rushed bold- 
ly into the breach, and stood nearer to our men than to their 
own, hurling stones and broken bottles right into the faces of 
the attacking troops, regardless of death by sword or bullet, 
which many of them boldly met. Before defenders thus an- 
imated it was no disgrace to the assailants to give way. By 
seven o'clock in the evening they had been completely driven 
out of the street and back into the counterscarp. Here the 
contest was for a moment renewed ; but only for a moment. 
At the point of sword and pike the assailants were driven in- 
to their own trenches, and a shout of. victory arose from the 



438 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

besieged as they hurled from the walls, as they thought, the 
last remnant of the Dutch battalions. But William had yet a 
grip upon those walls. In the wild confusion of the three hours' 
struggle, the Brandenburghers, when being pressed back upon 
the breach, got in at the rear of one of the Irish batteries, into, 
and over which, we are told, they now swarmed in a dense black 
mass. In a moment, however, the whole struggle was sud- 
denly and decisively terminated by the crowning feat of the 
defence. At the very instant when the Brandenburghers — 
little knowing that the ground beneath them was every rood 
a mine — were exulting over what they thought at least an in- 
stalment of success, the earth heaved and A'awned under their 
feet and with a roar like thunder, mingled with a thousand 
despairing death-shrieks, battery and Brandenburghers went 
flying into the air ! For a moment there was a pause ; each 
side alike seeming to feel the awfulness of the fate that had 
so suddenly annihilated the devoted regiment. Then, indeed, 
a shout wild and high went up from the walls, wafted from 
end to end of the cit}^ and caught up on the Thomond shore, 
and a final salvo from the unconquered battlements, by way 
of parting salute to the flying foe, proclaimed that patriotism 
and heroism had won the victory. 

Far more honorable at all times than conquering prowess 
in battle — far more worthy of admiration and fame — is human- 
ity to the fallen and the wounded, generosity to the vanquished. 
Let the youth of Ireland, therefore, know, when with bound- 
ing heart they read or relate so far this glorious story of Lim- 
erick that there remains to be added the brightest ray to the 
halo of its fame. At the moment when the last overwhelming 
rush of the garrison and inhabitants swept the assailants from 
the breach, in the impetuosity of the onset the pursuing Irish' 
penetrated at one point into the Williamite camp and in the 
mdce the Williamite hospital took fire. What follows de- 
serves to be recorded in letters of gold. The Irish instantane- 
ously turned from all pursuit and conflict — some of them 
rushed into the flames to bear away to safety from the burn- 
ing building its wounded occupants, while others of them 
with devoted zeal applied themselves to the task of quenching 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 439 

the flames! It was only when all danger from the conflagra- 
tion was over, that they gave thought to their own safety, and 
fought their way back to the town ! 

William, resolving to renew the assault next day, could not 
persuade his men to advance, though he offered to lead them 
in person ! Whereupon," says the Protestant historian who 
relates the fact, " in all rage he left the camp, and never stop- 
ped till he came to Waterford, where he took shipping lor 
England, his army in the meantime retiring by night from 
Limerick."* 




LXIX. — HOW THE FRENCH SAILED OFF, AND THE DESERTED 
IRISH ARMY STARVED IN RAGS, BUT WOULD NOT GIVE UP 
THE RIGHT. ARRIVAL OF "ST. RUTH, THE VAIN AND BRAVE." 

HILE William's cowed and beaten army were flying 
from Limerick, and the queen city of the Shannon was 
folding high carnival of rejoicing, a French fleet was 
anchoring in Galway to take off Lauzun and the French 
auxiliaries! James had represented in France that all was 
lost — that the struggle was over — that the Irish would not 
fight ; so King Louis sent a fleet imperatively to bring away 
his men. Accordingly, Lauzun and his division embarked 
and sailed from Galway. Tyrconnell, however, proceeded to 
France at the same time, to represent to James his error as to 
the condition of affairs in Ireland, and to obtain from King 
Louis a new expedition in aid of the struggle. 

An army in the field is a costly engine. Who was to supply 
the Irish with a " military chest?" How were the forces to be 
paid, supported, clothed? And, above all, how were military 
stores, ammunition, arms, and the myriad of other necessaries 
for the very existence of an army, to be had ? The struggle 
was not merely against so many thousand Wiiliamites — Dutch 

* Cassell's (Godkin's) History of Ireland, vol. ii. p. 114. 



440 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

Danish, or English— on Irish soil : but against so many as a 
wing of the English nation, or mercenaries in its pay with 
the constituted government, the wealth, the taxes, the levies, 
the arsenals and the foundries of powerful England behind 
them. We need hardly wonder that while, every day, trans- 
ports arrived from England with arms, ammunition, and mil- 
itary stores, new uniform, tents, baggage, and transport appli- 
ances, for the Williamite army, the hapless Irish garrisons 
were literally in rags, unpaid, unsupplied, short of food,and 
wretchedly off for ammunition. Matters were somewhat 
mended by the arrival of Tyrconnell at Limerick, in February 
ot the following year(i69i) with a small supply of money and 
some shiploads of provisions, but no men. He brought, how- 
ever, news, which to the half-famished and ragged garrisons 
were more welcome than piles of uniform clothing, or chests 
of gold — the cheering intelligence that King Louis was pre- 
paring for Ireland military assistance on a scale beyond any- 
thing France had yet afforded ! 

On the 8th of May following, a French fleet arrived in the 
Shannon, bringing some provisions, clothing, arms, and am- 
munition for the Irish troops, but no money and no troops. 
In this fleet, however, came Lieutenant-General St. Ruth, a 
French officer of great bravery, ability, energy, and experience, 
sent to take the chief command of the Irish army." This ap- 
pointment, it may fee remarked, in effect reduced to a fifth 
subordinate position Sarsfield, the man to whom was mainly 
owing the existence of any army at all in Ireland at this junc- 
ture, and on whom during the past winter had practically de- 
volved all the responsibilities of the chief military and civil 

authority. 

'■' Every fortunate accident." savs one of our historians, " had 
combined to elevate that gallant cavalry officer into the posi- 
tion of national leadership. He was the son of a member of 
the Irish commons proscribed for his patriotism and religion 
in 1641 ; his mother being Anna O'Moore, daughter of the 
organizer of the Catholic Confederation. He was a Catholic 
in religion ; spoke Gaelic as fluently as English ; was brave, im- 
pulsive, handsome, and generous to a fault, like the men he led. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 441 

During Tyrconnel's absence every sincere lover of his coun- 
try came to him with intelligence and looked to him for 
direction." 

The viceroy had brought him from France the rank and 
title of Earl of Lucan ; *' a title drawn from that pleasant ham- 
let in the valley of the Liflfey, where he had learned to lisp 
the catechism of a patriot at the knee of Anna O'Moore." 
But it was not for titles or personal honors Sarsfield fought. 
More dear to him was the cause he had at heart ; and though 
unquestionably the denial to him of a higher position of com- 
mand in this campaign led to the bitterest feeling in the army 
— with the worst of results ultimately — in his own breast 
there rested no thought but how to forward that cause, no 
ambition but to serve it, whether as commoner or earl, as 
subaltern or as chief. 



LXX. — HOW GINCKLE BESIEGED ATHLONE. HOW THE IRISH 
" KEPT THE BRIDGE," AND HOW THE BRAVE CUSTUME AND 
HIS GLORIOUS COMPANIONS " DIED FOR IRELAND." HOW 
ATHLONE, THUS SAVED, WAS LOST IN AN HOUR! 

HE Williamite army rendezvoused at Mullingar towards 
the end of Ma3% under Generals De Ginckle, Talmash, 
J[e^ and Mackay. On the 7th June, they moved westward 
CQp for Athlone, " the ranks one blaze of scarlet, and the 
artillery such as had never before been seen in Ireland." * 
They were detained ten days besieging an Irish out-post, Bal- 
lymore castle, heroically defended by Lieutenant-Colonel 
Ulick Burke and a force of twelve hundred men against 
Ginckle's army of thirteen thousand, and that artillery de- 
scribed for us by Macaulay. On the i8th Ginckle was joined 
by the Duke of Wirtemburg, the Prince of Hesse, and the 
Count of Nassau, with seven thousand foreign mercenaries. 

* Macaulay 



442 \ THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

On the 19th their full force appeared before Athlone and 
summoned the town to surrender. 

On the previous occasion, when besieged by Douglas, the 
governor (Colonel Grace) relinquished as untenable the Lein- 
ster (or " English") side of the town, and made his stand suc- 
cessfully from the Connacht (or " Irish") side. The governor 
on this occasion — Colonel Fitzgerald — resolved to defend 
both the " English" and" Irish" sides, St. Ruth having strong- 
ly counselled him so to do, and promised to reach him soon 
with the bulk of the Irish army from Limerick. Colonel 
Fitzgerald had not more than three hundred and fifty men 
as a garrison ; nevertheless, knowing that all depended on 
holding out till St. Ruth could come up, he did not wait for 
Ginckle to appear in sight, but sallied out with his small force, 
and disputed with the Williamite army the approaches to the 
town, thus successfully retarding them for five or six hours. 
But Ginckle had merely to plant his artillery, and the only 
walls Athlone possessed — on iliat side at least — were breached 
and crumbled like pastry. Towards evening, on the 17th June, 
the whole of the bastion at the " Dublin Gate," near the river 
on the north side, being levelled, the (English) town was as- 
saulted. The storming party, as told off, were four thousand 
men, headed by three hundred grenadiers, under Mackay, 
and with profuse supports besides. To meet these, Fitzgerald 
had barely the survivors of his three hundred and fifty men, 
now exhausted after forty-eight hours' constant fighting. In 
the breach, when the assault was delivered, iivo Jmndredoi\)cidX 
gallant band fell to rise no more. The remainder, fiercely 
fighting, fell back inch by inch towards the bridge, pressed 
by their four thousand foes. From the Williamites shouts 
now arose on all sides of, " tJie bridge — tlie bridge ; " and a furi- 
ous rush was made to get over the bridge along with, if not 
before, the retreating Irish. In this event, of course, all was 
lost : but the brave Fitzgerald and his handful of heroes knew 
the fact well. Turning to bay at the bridge-end, they opposed 
themselves like an impenetrable wall to the mass of the enemy ; 
while above the din of battle and the shouts of the combatants 
could be heard sounds in the rear that to Mackay's ear need- 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 443 

ed no explanation — tJie Irish ivere breaking doivn the arches be- 
hind, while yet they fought in front ! " They are destroying the 
bridge^' he shouted wildly : " On ! on ! save the bridge— the 
bridge!" Flinging themselves in hundreds on the few score 
men now resisting them, the stormers sought to clear the way 
by freely giving man for man, life for hfe, nay four for one ; but 
it would not do. There Fitzgerald and his companions stood 
like adamant ; the space at the bridge-end was small ; one man 
could keep five at bay ; and a few paces behind, wielding pick, 
and spade, and crowbar, like furies, were the engineers of the 
Irish garrison. Soon a low rumbling noise was heard, follow- 
ed by a crash ; and a shout of triumph broke from the Irish 
side ; a yell of rage from the assailants ; a portion, but a por- 
tion only, of two arches had fallen into the stream ; the bridge 
was still passable ! Again a wild eager shout from Mackay: 
" On ! on I Now ! now ! the bridge !" But still there stood the 
decimated defenders, with clutched guns and clenched teeth, 
resolved to die but not to yield. Suddenly a cry from the Irish 
rear: " Back, back, men, for your lives V The brave band 
turned from the front, and saw the half-broken arches behind 
them tottering. Most of them rushed with lightning speed over 
the falling mass ; but the last company — it had wheeled round 
even at that moment to face and keep back the enemy — were 
too late ! As they rushed for the passage, the mass of masonry 
heaved over with a roar into the boiling surges, leaving the 
devoted band on the brink in the midst of their foes ! There 
was a moment's pause, and almost a wail burst from the Irish 
on the Connacht side ; but just as the enemy rushed with 
vengeance upon the doomed group, they were seen to draw 
back a pace or two from the edge of the chasm, fling away 
their arms, then dash forward and plunge into the stream. 
Like a clap of thunder broke a volley from a thousand guns 
of the Leinster shore, tearing the water into foam. There 
was a minute of suspense on each side, and then a cheer rang 
out — of defiance, exultation, victory— as the brave fellows 
were seen to reach the other bank, pulled to land by a hun- 
dred welcoming hands! 

St. Ruth, at Ballinasloe, on his way up from Limerick, 



444 THE STORY OF IllELAND. 

heard next day that the Enghsh town had fallen. "He in- 
stantly set out at the head of fifteen hundred horse and foot, 
leaving the main army to follow as quickly as possible. On 
his arrival, he encamped about two miles west of the town, 
and appointed Lieutenant-General D'Usson governor instead 
of the gallant Fitzgerald, as being best skilled in defending 
fortified places."* Now came the opportunity for that 
splendid artillery, " the like of which," Macauley has told us, 
" had never been seen in Ireland. " For seven long days of 
midsummer there poured against the Irish town such a storm 
of iron from seven batteries of heavy siege guns and mortars, 
that by the 27th the place was literally a mass of ruins, 
amongst which, we are told, " two men could not walk a- 
breast. " On that day "a hundred wagons arrived in the 
Williamite camp from Dublin, laden with a further supply of 
ammunition for the siege guns. " That evening the enemy 
by grenades set on fire the fascines of the Irish breastwork at 
the bridge, and that night, under cover of a tremendous bom- 
bardment, they succeeded in flinging some beams over the 
broken arches, and partially planking them. Next morning — ■ 
it was Sunday, the 28th June — the Irish saw with conster- 
nation that barely a few planks more laid on would complete 
the bridge. Their own few cannon were now nearly all 
buried in the ruined masonry, and the enemy beyond had 
battery on battery trained on the narrow spot — it was dcatJi 
to show in the line of the all but finished causeway ! 

Out stepped from the ranks of Maxwell's regiment, a ser- 
geant of dragoons, Custume by name. " Are there ten men 
here who will die with me for Ireland ? " A hundred eager 
voices shouted, Aye : " Then, " said he " we will save Athlone; 
the bridge must go doivn. " 

Grasping axes and crow-bars, the devoted band rushed 
from behind the breastwork, and dashed forward upon the 
newly laid beams. A peal of artillery — a fusillade of mus- 
ketry — from the other side, and the space was swept with 
grape-shot and bullets. When the smoke cleared awa}^ the 

M'Cann. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 4:4:5 

bodies of the brave Custume and his ten heroes lay on the 
bridge, riddled with balls. They had torn away some of the 
beams, but every inan of the eleven had perished ! 

Out from the ranks of the same regiment dashed as many 
more volunteers. " There are eleven men more who will die for 
Ireland." Again across the bridge rushed the heroes. Again 
the spot is swept by a murderous fusillade. The smoke lifts 
from the scene ; nine of the second band lie dead upon the 
bridge— two survive, but the work is done ! The last beam 
is ofone ; Athlone once more is saved I 

I am not repeating a romance of fiction, but narrating a 
true story, recorded by lookers on, and corroborated in all 
its substance by writers on the Williamite and on the Ja- 
cobite side. When, therefore, young Irishmen read in 
Roman history of Horatius Codes and his comrades, who 

"kept the bridge 
In the brave days of old," 

let them remember that the authentic annals of Ireland record 
a scene of heroism not dissimilar in many of its features, not 
less glorious in aught ! And when they read also of the 
fabled Roman patriot who plunged into the abyss at the 
forum, to save the city, let them remember that such devotion, 
not in fable, but in fact, has been still more memorably ex- 
hibited by Irishmen ; and let them honor beyond the apocry- 
phal Curtius, the brave Custume and his glorious companions, 
who died for Ireland at Athlone. 

The town was saved once more — yet awhile. " Ginckle, 
thus a second time defeated in striving to cross the Shanncm, 
resolved to renew his approaches over the bridge by the 
more cautious method of a covered walk, or ' close gallery,' 
and to support the new mode of attack by several others in 
different directions. "- The whole of that day he cannonaded 
the Irish town with great violence, " as I believe never town 
was, " writes a spectator. Nevertheless, the Irish, burrowing 
and trenching amidst the chaotic mass of ruins and piles of 



O'Callaghan's Green Book, p. 32. 



446 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

rubbish once called the town of Athlone, continued to form 
new defences as fast as the old were levelled, and Ginckle 
was at his wit's end what to rely upon if his "close gallery" 
should fail. A council of war in the Williamite camp decided 
that on the morning of the 29th, the passage of the river 
should be a third time attempted, and in greater force than 
ever. A bridge of boats was to be thrown across the river 
some distance below the old stone structure, and it occurred to 
some one to suggest that as the summer had been exceeding-, 
ly dry, and as the water in the river appeared to be unpre- 
cedentedly low, it might be worth while to try sounding for 
a ford. 

This hap-hazard thought — this apparently fugitive sugges- 
tion — won Athlone. 

"Three Danish soldiers, under sentence of death for some 
crime, were offered their pardon if they would undertake to 
try the river. The men readily consented, and, putting on 
armor, entered at three several places. The English in the 
trenches were ordered to fire seemingly at them, but in reali- 
ty over their heads, whence the Irish naturally concluded 
them to be deserters, and did not fire till they saw them re- 
turning, when the English by their great and small shot, 
obliged the Irish to be covered. It was discovered that the 
deepest part of the river did not reach their breasts. " There- 
upon it was decided to assail the town next morning sudden- 
ly and by surprise at three points ; one party to go over the 
bridge by the " close gallery ;" a second to cross by the pon- 
toons or boat bridge ; the third, by one of the fords. Once 
more Mackay was to lead the assault, which was fixed for 
ten o'clock next morning ; again, as at the Boyne, each 
Williamite soldier was to mount a green bough or sprig in 
his hat; and this time the word was to be " Kilkenny." 

That night a deserter swam the river below the town, and 
revealed to St. Ruth that an assault was to be made by a 
boat-bridge and " close gallery " early next morning ; and lo ! 
when day dawned, the Williamites could descry the main 
army of the Irish defiling into the town, and detachments 
stationed at every point to contest the assault which was to 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 449 

have been "a surprise. " To make matters worse, the boats 
were not ready till ten o'clock, instead of at six. Neverthe- 
less the assault was proceeded with, and the storm of grenades 
began to fly. It had been decided to begin the conflict at or 
on the bridge, close to the broken arches, where (on their 
own side) the English had a breastwork, up to which the 
"close gallery" had been advanced, and upon the attack at 
this point the other operations were to depend. After an 
hour's hot work the Irish set on fire the fascines of the Eng- 
lish breastwork. There being a strong breeze blowing, in a 
few minutes the flames spread rapidly ; the breastwork Ifhd 
to be abandoned; the " close gallery " was almost destroyed ; 
and the storming columns were called off. The Williamite 
assault upon Athlone a third time had proved a total failure. 

Great was the exultation on the Irish side of the river at 
the triumphant defeat and utter abandonment of this, the 
final attempt, as they regarded it, on the part of the foe. 
After waiting till near five o'clock to behold the last of the 
Williamites called to the rear, and every other sign of defeat ex- 
hibited on their side, St. Ruth drew off the victorious Irish 
army to the camp three miles distant, and, over-confidently, 
it not vaingloriously, declaring the siege as good as raised, 
invited the resident gentry of the neighborhood and the 
officers of the army to a grand ball at his quarters that 
evening. 

Meanwhile Ginckle, a prey to the most torturing reflections, 
wavered between a hundred conflicting resolutions or mo- 
mentary impulses. At last he decided to raise the siege, but 
wishing for the decision of a council to shield him somewhat 
from the outcry he apprehended in Dublin and in London, 
a meeting was held to consider the point. After a hot and 
bitter disputation, a resolution, at first laughed at by the 
majority, was adopted — namely, to try that very evening, nay 
that very honr, a sudden dash across the river by the fords, as 
(it was rightly conjectured) the Irish would now be off their 
guard. As a last refuge from disgrace, Ginckle resolved to 
try this chance. 
Towards six o'clock the Irish oflicer on guard on the Athlone 



450 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

side, sent word to the General (St. Ruth) that he thought there 
were sig-ns of a movement on the opposite bank, and suggest- 
ing that additional guards be sent in, as only a few companies 
had remained in the town. St. Ruth replied by a sharp and 
testy remark, reflecting on the courage of the officer, to the 
effect, that he was frightened by fancy. By the time this 
brusk reply had reached him, the officer saw enough to con- 
vince him infallibly that an assault was about to be made and 
he again sent with all speed to the camp entreating the gen- 
eral to credit the fact. St, Ruth replied by saying that if the 
officer in charge was afraid of such attacks, he might turn 
over the command to another. Sarsfield was present at this 
last reply, and he at once judged the whole situation correctly. 
He implored St. Ruth not to treat so lightly a report so grave 
from an officer of undoubted bravery. The Frenchman — 
courageous, energetic, and highly-gifted as he unquestion- 
ably was — unfortunately was short-tempered, imperious, and 
vain. He and Sarsfield exchanged hot and angry words ; St. 
Ruth resenting Sarsfield's interference, and intimating that the 
latter henceforth should " know his place." While yet this fa- 
tal altercation was proceeding, an aid de camp galloped up all 
breathless from the town — tJic EnglisJi iverc across the river and 
into the defences of Athlone! Even now St. Ruth's overween- 
ing self-confidence would not yield. " Then let us drive them 
back again," was his answer, at the same time directing troops 
to hurry forward for that purpose. But it was too late. The 
lodgment had been made in force. The English were now 
in the defences. The walls of the town on the camp side had 
been left standing, and only a siege could now dispossess the 
new occupants. Athlone was lost ! * 

Amongst the slain on the Irish side in this siege was the glorious old veteran, 
Colonel Richard Grace, who was governor the preceding year. His great age — he 
was now nearly ninety years of age — caused him to be relieved of such a laborious posi- 
tion in this siege, but nothing could induce him to seek, either in retirement or in 
less exposed and dangerous duty, that quiet which all his compeers felt to be the old 
man's right. He would insist on remaining in the thickest of the fighting, and he 
died '• with his harness on his back." He was one of the most glorious characters to 
be met with in Irish history. The erudite author of the Green Book supplies a deep- 
ly interesting sketch of his life and career. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 



451 



LXXL — "THE CULLODEN OF IRELAND. " HOW AUGHRIM WAS 
FOUGHT AND LOST. A STORY OF THE BATTLE-FIELD ; " THE 
DOG OF AUGHRIM," OR, FIDELITY IN DEATH ' 




T. RUTH fell back to Bal- 
a| linasloe, on Ginckle's road 
to Gahvay, which city was 
to> now held by the Irish, and 
was in truth one of their most im- 
portant possessions. The French- 
man was a prey to conscious 
guilty feeling. He knew that 
Sarsfield held him accountable 
for the loss of Athlone, and his 
pride was painfully mortified. How often do dire events 
from trivial causes spring ! This estrangement between St. 
Ruth and Sarsfield was fated to effect the destinies of Ireland, 
for to it may be traced the loss of the battle of Aughrim, as 
we shall see. 

At a council of war in the Irish camp it was at first resolved 
to give battle in the strong position which the army had now 



452 THE STaRY OF IRELAND. 

taken up, but St. Ruth moved off to Aughrim about three 
miles distant on the road to Galway. The new position 
was not less strong than that which had just been quitted. 
In truth its selection, and the uses to which St. Ruth turned 
each and all of its natural advantages, showed him to be a 
man of consummate ability. 

Close to the little village of Aughrim— destined to give name 
to the last great battle between Catholic and Protestant 
royalty on the soil of Ireland— is the Hill of Kilcommedan. 
The hill slopes gradually and smoothly upward to a height 
of about three hundred feet from its base, running lengthways 
for about two miles from north to south. On its east side or 
slope, looking towards the way by which Ginckle must ap- 
proach on his march westward to Galway, the Irish army 
was encamped, having on its right flank the pass or causeway 
of Urrachree, and its left flank resting on the village of Augh- 
rim. A large morass lay at the foot of Kilcommedan (on the 
•east, sweeping round the northern end of the hill) which 
might be crossed in summer by footmen, but was impractic- 
able for cavalry. Through its centre, from south to north, ran 
a little stream, which with winter rains flooded all the sur- 
rounding marsh. Two narrow causeways, " passes," or roads 
ran across the morass to the hill ; one at Urrachree, the other 
■at the town of Aughrim ; the latter one being defended or 
commanded by an old ruin, Aughrim Castle at the hill base.* 
Along the slopes of the hill, parallel with its base, ran two or 
three lines of whitehorn hedge-rows, growing out of thick 
earth fences, affording admirable position and protection for 
musketeers. It may be questioned if the genius of a Welling- 
ton could have devised or directed aught that St. Ruth had 
not done to turn every feature of the ground and every inch 
of this position to advantage. Yet by one sin of omission he 
placed all the fortunes of the day on the hazard of his 



"• The most intelligible, if not the only intelligible, descriptions of this battle-field 
are those of Mr. M. J. M'Cann, in the Harp for June, 1859; and in a work recently is- 
sued in America, Battle-fields of Ireland, unquestionably the most attractive and faith- 
ful narrative hitherto published of the Jacobite struggle. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 453 

own life ; he communicated his plan of battle to 7io one. Sars- 
held was the man next entitled and fitted to command, in the 
event of anything befalling the general ; yet he in particular 
was kept from any knowledge of the tactics or strategy upon 
which the battle was to turn. Indeed he was posted at a 
point critical and important enough in some senses, yet away 
from, and out of sight of the part of the field where the main 
struggle was to take place ; and St. Ruth rather hurtfuUy 
gave him imperative instructions not to stir from the position 
thus assigned him, without a written order from himself. "At 
Aughrim," says an intelligent Protestant literary periodical, 
" three apparent accidents gave the victory to Ginckle. The 
musketeers defending the pass at the old castle found them- 
selves supplied with cannon balls instead of bullets; the flank 
movement of a regiment was mistaken for a retreat ; and St. 
Ruth lost his life by a cannon shot."* The last mentioned, 
Avhich was really the accident that wrested undoubted victory 
from the Irish grasp, would have had no such disastrous re- 
sult had St. Ruth confided his plan of battle to his lieutenant 
general, and taken him heartily and thoroughly into joint 
command on the field. 

I know of no account of this battle, which, within the same 
space exhibits so much completeness, clearness, and simplicity 
of narration, as Mr. Haverty's, which accordingly I here bor- 
row with very little abridgement : — 

" The advanced guards of the Williamites came in sight of 
the Irish on the nth of July, and the following morning, which 
was Sunday, 12th of July, 1691, while the Irish army was as- 
sisting at mass, the whole force of the enemy drew up in line 
of battle on the high ground to the east beyond the morass. 
As nearly as the strength of the two armies can be estimated, 
that of the Irish was about fifteen thousand horse and foot, 
and that of the Williamites from twenty to twenty-five thou- 
sand, the latter having besides a numerous artillery, while the 
Irish had but nine field pieces. 



* Dublin University Magazine, for February, 1867. — " Some Episodes of the Irish 
Jacobite Wars." 



454 THE STOBY OF IRELAND. 

" Ginckle, knowing his own great superiority in artillery, 
hoped by the aid of that arm alone to dislodge the Irish centre 
force from their advantageous ground ; and as quickly as his 
guns could be brought into position, he opened fire upon the 
enemy. He also directed some cavalry movements on his left 
at the pass of Urraghree, but with strict orders that the Irish 
should not be followed beyond the ' pass,' lest any fighting 
there should force on a general engagement, for which he had 
not then made up his mind. His orders on this point, how- 
ever, were not punctually obeyed ; the consequence being 
some hot skirmishing, which brought larger bodies into ac- 
tion, until about three o'clock, when the Williamites retired 
from the pass. 

Ginckle now held a council of war and the prevalent opin- 
ion seemed to be that the attack should be deferred until an 
early hour next morning, but the final decision of the council 
was for an immediate battle. At five o'clock accordingly, the 
attack was renewed at Urraghree, and for an hour and a half 
there was considerable fighting in that quarter; several at- 
tempts to force the pass having been made in the interval, and 
the Irish cavalry continuing to maintain their ground gallant- 
ly, although against double their numbers. 

" At length, at half-past six, Ginckle, having previously 
caused the morass in front of the Irish centre to be sounded, 
ordered his infantry to advance on the point where the line 
of the fences at the Irish side projected most into the marsh, 
and where the morass was, consequently, narrowest. This, it 
appears, was in the Irish right centre, or in the direction of Ur- 
raghree. The four regiments of colonels Erie, Herbert, Creigh- 
ton, and Brewer, were the first to wade through the mud and 
water, and to advance against the nearest of the hedges, where 
they were received with a smart fire by the Irish, who then 
retired behind their next line of hedges, to which the assail- 
ants in their turn approached. The Williamite infantry were 
thus gradually drawn from one line offences to another, up 
the slope from the morass, to a greater distance than was con- 
templated in the plan of attack, according to which they were 
to hold their ground near the morass until they could be pup^ 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 455 

ported by reinforcements of infantry in the rear, and by caval- 
ry on the flanks. The Irish retired by such short distances, 
that the Williamites pursued what they considered to be an 
advantage, until they found themselves face to fape with the 
main line of the Irish, who now charged them in front ; while 
by passages cut specially for such a purpose through the line 
of hedges by St. Ruth, the Irish cavalry rushed down with 
irresistible force and attacked them in the flanks. The ef- 
fect was instantaneous. In vain did Colonel Erie endeavor 
to encourage his men by crying out that * there was no way 
to come off but to be brave.' They were thrown into total 
disorder, and fled towards the morass, the Irish cavalry cut- 
ting them down in the rear, and the infantry pouring in a 
deadly fire, until they were driven beyond the quagmire, which 
separated the two armies. Colonels Erie and Herbert were 
taken prisoners ; but the former, after being taken and retaken, 
and receiving some wounds, was finally rescued. 

" Whilst this was going forward towards the Irish right, 
several other Williamite regiments crossed the bog nearer to 
Aughrim, and were in like manner repulsed ; but not having 
ventured among the Irish hedges, their loss was not so con- 
siderable, although they were pursued so far in their retreat, 
that the Irish, says Story, ' got almost in a line with some of 
our great guns,' or, in other words, had advanced into the 
English battle-ground. It was no wonder that at this moment 
St. Ruth should have exclaimed with national enthusiasm, 
* The day is ours, mcs enfant s /' 

"The manoeuvres of the Dutch general on the other side 
evinced consummate ability, and the peril of his present 
position obliged him to make desperate efforts to retrieve it. 
His army being much more numerous than that of the Irish, 
he could afford to extend his left wing considerably beyond 
their right, and this causing a fear that he intended to flank 
them at that side, St. Ruth ordered the second line of his left 
to march to the right, the officer who received the instruc- 
tions taking with him also a battalion from the centre, which 
left a weak point not unobserved by the enemy. St. Ruth 
had a fatal confidence in the natural strength of his left, owing 



456 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

to the great extent of bog, and the extreme narrowness of 
the causeway near Aughrim Castle. The Williamite com- 
mander perceived this confidence, and resolved to take ad- 
vantage of it. Hence his movement at the opposite extremity 
of his line, which was a mere feint, the troops which he sent 
to his left not firing a shot during the day, while some of the 
best regiments of the Irish were drawn away to watch them. 
The point of weakening the Irish left having been thus gained, 
the object of doing so soon became apparent. A movement 
of the Williamite cavalry to the causeway at Aughrim was 
observed. Some horsemen were seen crossing the narrow 
part of the causeway with great difficulty, being scarcely able to 
ride two abreast. St. Ruth still believed that pass impregnable, 
as indeed it would have been, but for the mischances which we 
have yet to mention, and he is reported to have exclaimed, 
when he saw the enemy's cavalry scrambling over it, 'They 
are brave fellows, 'tis a pity they should be so exposed.' They 
were not, however, so exposed to destruction as he then 
imagined. Artillery had come to their aid, and as the men 
crossed, they began to form in squadrons on the firm ground 
near the old castle. What were the garrison of the castle 
doing at this time? and what the reserve of cavalry beyond 
the castle to the extreme left? As to the former, an unlucky 
circumstance rendered their efforts nugatory. It was found 
on examining the ammunition with which they had been sup- 
plied, that while the men were armed with French firelocks, 
the balls that had been served to them were cast for English 
muskets, of which the calibre was larger, and that they were 
consequently useless. In this emergency the men cut the 
small globular buttons from their jackets, and used them for 
bullets, but their lire was ineffective, however briskly it was 
sustained, and few of the enemy's horse crossing the cause- 
way were hit. This was but one of the mischances connected 
with the unhappy left of St. Ruth's position. We have seen 
how an Irish officer, when ordered with reserves to the right 
wing, removed a battalion from the left centre. This error* 



* Many Irish authorities assert it was no "error," but downright treason. The 
cfficer who perpetrated it being the traitor Luttrel, subsequently discovered to have 
long been working out the betrayal of the cause. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 457 

was immediately foliovved by the crossing of the morass at 
that weakened point by three Williamite regiments, who em- 
ployed hurdles to facilitate their passage, and who, meet- 
ing with a comparatively feeble resistance at the front line of 
fences, succeeded in making a lodgment in a corn field on the 
Irish side." 

It was, however — as the historian just quoted remarks in 
continuation — still very easy to remedy the effects of these 
errors or mishaps thus momentarily threatening to render 
questionable the victory already substantially won by the 
Irish ; and St. Ruth, for the purpose of so doing — and, in fact, 
delivering the coup de grace to the beaten foe — -left his position 
of observation in front of the camp on the crest of the hill 
and, placing himself in joyous pride at the head of a cavalry 
brigade, hastened down the slope to charge the confused 
bodies of Williamite horse gaining a foot-hold below. Those 
who saw him at this moment say that his face was aglow with 
enthusiasm and triumph. He had, as he thought, at last vindi- 
cated his name and fame ; he had shown what St. Ruth 
could do. And, indeed, never for an instant had he doubted the 
result of this battle, or anticipated for it any other issue than 
a victory. He had attired himself, we are told, in his most 
gorgeous unitorm, wearing all his decorations and costly 
ornaments, and constantly told those around him that he was 
to-day about to win a battle that would wrest Ireland from Wil- 
liam's grasp. About half- wav down the hill he halted a moment 
to give some directions to the artillerymen at one of the field 
batteries. Then, drawing his sword, and giving the word to 
advance for a charge, he exclaimed to his officers : "Thev 
are beaten, gentlemen ; let us drive them back to the gates of 
Dublin." With a cheer, rising above the roar of the artil- 
lery — which, from the other side, was playing furiously on 
this decisive Irish advance — the squadron made reply : when 
suddenly, louder still, at its close, there rose aery — a shriek — 
from some one near the general. All eyes were turned upon 
the spot, and for an instant many failed to discern the cause 
of such a startling utterance. There sat the glittering uni- 
formed figure upon his charger. It needed, with some, a second 



458 THE STOKY OF IKELAND. 

glance to detect the horrible catastrophe that had befallen. 
There sat the body of St. Ruth indeed, but it was his lifeless 
corpse — a headless trunk. A cannon shot from the Williamite 
batteries had struck the head from his body, as if the Tyburn 
axe and block had done their fearful work. St. Ruth, the 
vain, the brave, was no more ! 

The staff crowded around the fallen commander in sad dis- 
may. The brigade itself, ignorant at first of the true nature 
of what happened, but conscious that some serious disaster 
had occurred, halted in confusion. Indecision and confusion 
in the face of the enemy, and under fire of his batteries, has 
ever but one result. The brigade broke, and rode to the 
right. No one knew on whom the command dovolved. Sars- 
field was next in rank ; but every one knew him to be posted 
at a distant part of the field, and it was unhappily notorious 
that he had not been made acquainted with any of the lost 
general's plan. This indecision and confusion was not long 
spreading from the cavalry brigade which St. Ruth had been 
leading, to other bodies of the troops. The Williamites plainly 
perceived that something fatal had happened on the Irish 
side, which, if taken advantage of promptly, might give them 
victory in the very moment of defeat. They halted, rallied, 
and returned. A general attack in full force on all points was 
ordered. "Still the Irish centre and right wing maintained 
their ground obstinately, and the fight was renewed with as 
much vigor as ever. The Irish infantry were so hotly engaged^ 
that they were not aware either of the death of St. Ruth, or 
of the flight of the cavalry, until they themselves were almost 
surrounded. A panic and confused flight were the result. 
The cavalry of the right wing, who were the first in action 
that day, were the last to quit their ground. Sarsfield, with 
the reserve horse of the centre, had to retire with the rest 
without striking one blow, 'although,' says the Williamite 
captain Parker, 'he had the greatest and best part of the 
cavalry with him.' St. Ruth fell about sunset; and about 
nine, after three hours' hard fighting, the last of the Irish 
army had left the field. The cavalry retreated along the high 
road to Loughrae, and the infantry, who mostly flung away 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 459 

their arms, fled to a large red bog on their left, where great 
numbers of them were massacred unarmed and in cold blood: 
but a thick misty rain coming on, and the night setting in, 
the pursuit was soon relinquished." 

The peasantry to this day point out a small gorge on the 
hill side, still called " Gleann-na-Fola,"* where two ©f the 
Irish regiments, deeming flight vain, or scorning to fly, 
halted, and throughout the night waited their doom in sullen 
determination. There they were found in the morning, and 
ivere slaughtered to a man. The slogan of the conqueror was : 
*' No quarter."t 

Above five hundred prisoners, with thirty-two pairs of 
colors, eleven standards, and a large quantity of small arms, 
fell into the hands of the victors. The English loss in killed and 
wounded was about three thousand ; the Irish lost over four 
thousand, chiefly in the flight, as the Williamites gave no 
quarter, and the wounded, if they were not, in comparative 
mercy, shot as they lay on the field, were allowed to perish 
unfriended where they fell. 

To the music of one of the most plaintive of our Irish mel- 
odies — " The Lamentation of Aughrim " — Moore (a second 
time touched by this sad theme) has wedded the well-known 
verses here quoted : — 



*The Glen of Slaughter.— The Bloody Glen. 

+ Moore, who seems to have beenpowerfuUy affected by the whole story of Aughrim 
— "the Culloden of Ireland" — is said to have found in this mournful tragedy the 
subject of his exquisite song " After the Battle : " — 

Night closed around the conqueror's way, 
» And lightning showed the distant hill. 

Where those who lost that dreadful day 

Stood few and faint — but fearless still. 
The soldier's hope — the patriot's zeal. 

For ever dimmed, for ever crossed ! 
Oh! who can say what heroes feel 

When all but life and honor's lost! 

The last sad hour of freedom's dream 

And valor's task moved slowly by ; 
And mute they watched till morning's beam 

Should rise and give them light to die ! 
There's yet a world where souls are free. 

Where tyrants taint not nature's bliss : 
If death that world's bright op'ning be, 
V_ Oh ! who would live a slave in this? 



4:60 THE STOBY OF IRELAND. 

Forget not the field where they perished — 

The truest, the last of the brave; 
All gone--and the bright hopes we cherished 

Gone with them, and quenched in the grave. 

Oh ! could we from death but recover 

Those hearts as they bounded before, 
In the face of high Heaven to fight over 

The combat for freedom once more; 

Could the chain for a moment be riven 

Which Tyranny flung round us then — 
No ! — 'tis not in Man, nor in Heaven, 

To let Tyranny bind it again ! 

But 'tis past ; a»d though blazoned in story \ 

The name of our victor may be; 
Accurst is the march of that glory 

Which treads o'er the hearts of the free ! 

Far dearer the grave or the prison 

Illumed by one patriot name, 
Than the trophies of all who have risen 

On Liberty's ruins to fame ! 

We cannot take leave of the field of Aughrim and pass un- 
noticed an episode connected with that scene which may well 
claim a place in history ; a true story, which, if it rested on 
any other authority than that of the hostile and unsympathiz- 
ing Williamite chaplain, might be deemed either the crea- 
tion of poetic fancy or the warmly tinged picture of exagger- 
ated fact. 

The bodies of the fallen Irish, as already mentioned, were 
for the most part left unburied on the ground, " a prey to the 
birds of the air and the beasts of the field." " There is," says 
the Williamite chronicler, " a true and remarkable story of a 
grayhound,* belonging to an Irish officer. The gentleman 
was killed and stripped in the battle,t whose body the dog re- 



. * It was a wolf-hound or wolf-dog. 

t Meaning to say, killed in the battle and stripped after it by the Williamite canip- 
foUowers, with whom stripping and robbing the slain was a common practice. They 
did not spare even the corpse of their own Heutenant-colonel, the Right Rev. Dr. 
Walker, Protestant Bishop of Derry, which they stripped naked at the Boyne. 



THE STOBY OF IKELAND. 461 

mained by night and day ; and though he fed upon otJicr 
corpses with the rest of the dogs, yet he would not allow them 
or anything else to touch that of his master. When all the 
corpses were consumed, the other dogs departed ; but this 
one used to go in the night to the adjacent villages for food, 
and presently return to the place where his master's bones 
only were then left. And thus he continued (from July when 
the battle was fought) till January following, when one of 
Colonel Foulkes's soldiers, being quartered nigh at hand, and 
going that way by chance, the dog fearing Jie came to disturb his 
master s bones flew upon the soldier, who, being surprised at the 
suddenness of the thing, unslung his piece then upon his back 
and shot the poor dog."* " He expired," adds Mr. O'Cal- 
laghan, " with the same fidelity to the remains of his unfor- 
tunate master, as that master had shown devotion to the cause 
of his unhappy country. In the history of nations there are 
few spectacles more entitled to the admiration of the noble 
mind and the sympathy of the generous and feeling heart, than 
the fate of the gallant men and the faithful dog of Aughrim."t 



*Story's Cont. Imp. Hist., p. 147. 
i Green Book. p. 459. 



4:62 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 



LXXII.— HOW GLORIOUS LIMERICK ONCE MORE BRAVED THE 
ORDEAL. HOW AT LENGTH A TREATY AND CAPITULATION 
WAS AGREED UPON. HOW SARSFIELD AND THE IRISH ARMY 
SAILED INTO EXILE. 






pALWAY surrendered on favorable terms ten days after 
the battle. Sligo also, the last western garrison, suc- 
cumbed soon after, and its governor, the brave Sir 
^^t Teige O'Regan, the hero of Charlemont, marched 
his six hundred survivors southward to Limerick." 

" Thus once more all eyes and hearts in the British Islands 
were turned towards the well-known city of the lower Shan- 
non."* 

On the 25th of August, Ginckle, reinforced by all the troops 
he could gather in with safety, invested the place on three 
sides. It appears he had powers, and indeed urgent direc- 
tions, from William long previously, to let no hesitation in 
granting favorable terms keep him from ending the war, if 
it could be ended by such means, and it is said he apprehend- 
ed serious censure for not having proclaimed such disposi- 
tion before he assaulted Athlone. He now resolved to use 
without stint the powers given to him, in the anxious hope of 
thereby averting the necessity of trying to succeed where 
William himself had failed — beneath the unconquered wails 
of Limerick. 

Accordingly, a proclamation was issued by Ginckle, offering 
a full and free pardon of all " treasons" (so-called — meaning 
thereby loyalty to the king, and resistance of the foreign 
emissaries), with restoration for all to their estates " forfeited" 
by such "treason," and employment in his majesty's service 
for all who would except it, if the Irish army would abandon 
the war. 



M'Gee. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 463 

It is not to be wondered at that this proclamation developed 
on the instant a " peace party" within the Irish lines. Not even 
the most sanguine could now hope to snatch the crown from 
William's head, and replace it on that of the fugitive James. 
For what object, therefore, if not simply to secure honorable 
terms, should they prolong the struggle? And did not this 
proclamation afford a fair and reasonable basis for negotiation ? 
The Anglo-Irish Catholic nobles and gentry, whose estates were 
thus offered to be secured to them, may well be pardoned, if they 
exhibited weakness at this stage. To battle further was, in 
their judgment, to peril all for a shadow. 

Nevertheless, the national party, led b}^ Sarsfield, prevailed, 
and Ginckle's summons to surrender was courteously but 
firmly refused. Once more glorious Limerick was to brave 
the fiery ordeal. Sixty guns, none of less than twelve pounds 
calibre, opened their deadly fire against it. An English fleet 
ascended the river, hurling its missiles right and left. Bom- 
bardment by land and water showered destruction upon the 
city — in vain ! Ginckle now gave up all hope of reducing the 
place by assault, and resolved to turn the siege into a blockade. 
Starvation must, in time, effect what fire and sword had so 
often and so vainly tried to accomplish. The treason of an 
Anglo-Irish officer long suspected, Luttrell, betrayed to Ginc- 
kle the pass over the Shannon above the city ; and one morn- 
ing the Irish, to their horror, beheld the foe upon the Clare 
side of the river. Ginckle again offered to grant almost any 
terms, if the city would but capitulate ; for even still he judged 
it rather a forlorn chance to await its capture. The announce- 
ment of this offer placed further resistance out of the question. 
It was plain there was a party within the walls so impressed 
with the madness of refusing such terms, that, any moment, 
they might, of themselves, attempt to hand over the city. 

Accordingly, on the 23rd September (1691) — after a day of 
bloody struggle from early dawn — the Irish gave the signal 
for a parley, and a cessation of arms took place. Favorable 
as were the terms offered, and even though Sarsfield now as- 
sented to accepting them, the news that the struggle was to 
be ended, was received by the soldiers and citizens with loud 



464 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

and bitter grief. They ran to the ramparts, from which they 
so often had hurled the foe, and broke their swords in pieces. 
" Muskets that had scattered fire and death amidst the British 
grenadiers, were broken in a frenzy of desperation, and the 
tough shafts of pikes that had resisted William's choicest cav- 
alry, crashed across the knees of maddened rapparees." The 
citizens, too, ran to the walls, with the arms they had treasured 
proudly as mementoes of the last year's glorious struggle, and 
shivered them into fragments, exclaiming with husky voices: 
" We need them now no longer. Ireland is no more ! " 

On the 26th September the negotiations were opened, host- 
ages were exchanged, and Sarsfield and Major-General 
Wauchop dined with Ginckle in the English camp. The terms 
of capitulation were settled soon after; but the Irish, happily 
— resolved to leave no pretext for subsequent repudiation of 
Ginckle's treaty, even though he showed them his formal 
powers — A^\x\-2iX\AQ.di \\\-aX. tJie lords jjisticcs should come down 
from Dublin and ratify the articles. This was done ; and on 
the 3rd of October, 1691, the several contracting parties met 
in full state at a spot on the Clare side of the river, to sign 
and exchange the treaty. That memorable spot is marked 
b}^ a large stone, which remains to this, day, proudly guarded 
and preserved by the people of that city, for whom it is a 
monument more glorious than the Titan arch for Rome. The 
visitor who seeks it on the Shannon side, needs but to name 
the object of his search, when a hnndred eager volunteers, 
their faces all radiant with pride, will point him out that me- 
morial of Irish honor and heroism, that silent witness of Eng- 
lish X.YO\\\— punka fides — the " Treaty Stone of Limerick." 

The treaty consisted of military articles, or clauses, twenty- 
nine in number; and civil articles, thirteen. Set out in all 
the formal and precise language of the original document, 
those forty-two articles would occupy a great space. They 
were substantially as follows : The military articles provided 
that all persons willing to expatriate themselves, as well 
officers and soldiers, as rapparees and volunteers, should have 
free liberty to do so, to any place beyond seas, except Eng- 
land and Scotland ; that they might depart in whole bodies, 



THE STORY OF lEELAND. 465 

companies, or parties; that, if plundered by the way, Wil- 
liam's government should make good their loss ; that fifty 
ships, of two hundred tons each, should be provided for their 
transportation, besides two men-of-war for the principal offi- 
cers ; that the garrison of Limerick might march out with all 
their arms, guns, and baggage, colors flying, drums beating, 
and matches lighting ! The garrison of Limerick, moreover, 
were to be at liberty to take away any six brass guns they 
might choose, with two mortars, and half the ammunition in 
the place. It was also agreed that those who so wished might 
enter the service of William, retaining their rank and pay. 

" The civil articles were thirteen in number. Article L 
guaranteed to members of that denomination remaining in 
the kingdom, * such privileges in the exercise of their religion 
as are consistent with the law of Ireland, or as they enjoyed 
in the reign of King Charles the Second' ; this article further 
provided that, ' their majesties, as soon as their affairs will 
permit them to summon a parliament in this kingdom, will 
endeavor the said Roman Catholics such further security in 
that particular as may preserve them from any disturbance.' " 
Article II. guaranteed pardon and protection to all who had 
served king James, on taking the oath of allegiance prescribed 
in Article IX,, as follows: — 

" I, A. B., do solemnly promise and swear that I will be faithful and bear true al- 
legiance to their majesties, King William and Queen Mary; so help me God." 

Articles III., IV., V., and VI., extended the provisions of 
Articles I. and II. to merchants and other classes of men. 
Article VII. permits " every nobleman and gentleman com- 
promised in the said articles" to carry side arms, and keep 
" a gun in their houses." Article VI IL gives the right of re- 
moving goods and chattels without search. Article IX. is as 
follows : — 

" The oath to be administered to such Roman Catholics as submit to their majesties 
government shall be the oath aforesaid, and no other." 

Article X. guarantees that " no person or persons who shall 
hereafter break these articles, or any of them, shall thereby 



466 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

make or cause any other person or persons to forfeit or lose 
the benefit of them." Articles XI. and XII. relate to the 
ratification of the articles '' within eight months or sooner." 
Article XIII. refers to the debts of " Colonel John Brown, 
commissary of the Irish army, to several Protestants," and ar- 
rangfes for their satisfaction. 

On the morning of the 5th of October, 1691, a singular 
scene was witnessed on the northern shore of the Shannon, 
beyond the city walls. On that day the Irish regiments were 
to make their choice between exile for life, or service in the 
armies of their conqueror. At each end of a gently rising 
ground beyond the suburbs, were planted on one side the roy- 
al standard of France, and on the other that of England. 
It was agreed that the regiments, as they marched out— 
" with all the honors of war, drums beating, colors flying, and 
matches lighting" — should, on reaching this spot, wheel to 
the left or to the right beneath that flag under which they 
elected to serve. At the head of the Irish marched the foot 
guards — the finest resfiment in the service — fourteen hundred 
Strong. All eyes were fixed on this splendid body of men. 
On they came, amidst breathless silence and acute suspense; 
for well both the English and Irish generals knew that the 
choice of the first regiment would powerfully influence all 
the rest. The guards marched up to the critical spot and — 
in a body wheeled to the colors of France ; barely seven men 
turning to the English side ! Ginckle, we are told, was great- 
ly agitated as he witnessed the proceeding. The next regi- 
ment, however (Lord Iveagh's) marched as unanimously to 
the Williamite banner, as did also portions of two others. But 
the bulk of the Irish army defiled under the Flcur de lis of 
king Louis ; only one thousand and forty-six, out of nearly 
fourteen thousand men, preferring the service of England ! 

A few days afterwards a French fleet sailed up the Shannon 
with an aiding army, and bringing money, arms, ammunition^ 
stores, food, and clothing ! Ginckle, affrighted, imagined the 
Irish would now disclaim the articles, and renew the war. But 
it was not the Irish who were to break the Treaty of Limerick. 
Sarsfield, when told that a powerful fleet was sailing up the 



THE STORY OF IBELAND. 467 

river, seemed stunned by the news ! He was silent for a 
moment, and then, in mournful accents, replied : " Too late. 
The treaty is signed ; our honor is pledged— the honor of 
Ireland. Thojigh a hundred thousand Frenchmeti offered to aid us 
now, we must keep our plighted troth ! " 

He forbade the expedition to land, with a scrupulous sense 
of honor contending that the spirit if not the letter of the capit- 
ulation extended to any such arrival ! The French ships, 
accordingly, were used only to transport to France the Irish 
army that had volunteered for foreign service. Soldiers and 
civilians, nobles, gentry, and clergy, there sailed in all nineteen 
thousand and twenty-five persons. Most of the officers, like 
their illustrious leader, Sarsfield,* gave up fortune, family, 
home, and friends, refusing the most tempting offers from 
William, whose anxiety to enrol them in his own service was 
earnestly and perseveringly pressed upon them to the last. 
Hard was their choice; great was the sacrifice. Full of 
anguish was that parting, whose sorrowful spirit has been so 
faithfully expressed by Mr. Aubrey de Vere, in the following 
simple and touching verses— the soliloquy of a brigade soldier 
sailing away from Limerick: — 

I snatched a stone from the bloodied brook, 

And hurled it at my household door! 
No farewell of my love I took : 

I shall see my friend no more. 

I dashed across the church-yard bound : 

I knelt not by my parents' grave : 
There rang from my heart a clarion's sound. 

That summoned me o'er the wave. 

No land to me can native be 

That strangers trample, and tyrants stain : 

When the valleys I loved are cleansed and free, 
They are mine, they are mine again ! 

Till then, in sunshine or sunless weather, 
By Seine and Loire, and the broad Garonne 

My war-horse and I roam on together 
Wherever God will. On ! on ! 



* His patrimonial estates near Lucan, county Dublin, were, even at that day, worth 
nearly three thousand pounds per annum. 



468 THE STORY OF IKELAND. 

These were not wholly lost to Ireland, though not a man 
of them ever saw Ireland more. They served her abroad 
when they could no longer strike for her at home. They 
made her sad yet glorious story familiar in the courts of 
Christendom. They made her valor felt and respected on the 
battle-fields of Europe. And as they had not quitted her soil 
until they exacted terms from the conqueror, which if observ- 
ed, might have been for her a charter of protection, so did 
they in their exile take a terrible vengeance upon that 
conqueror for his foul and treacherous violation of that 
treaty. 

No ! These men were not, in all, lost to Ireland. Their 
deeds are the proudest in her story. History may parallel, 
but it can adduce nothing to surpass, the chivalrous devotion 
of the men who comprised this second great armed migration 
of Irish valor, faith, and patriotism. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 469 




LXXIII. — HOW THE TREATY OF LIMERICK WAS BROKEN AND 
TRAMPLED UNDER FOOT BY THE " PROTESTANT INTEREST," 
YELLING FOR MORE PLUNDER AND MORE PERSECUTION. 

HERE is no more bitter memory in the Irish breast than 
that which tells how the Treaty of Limerick was violat- 
(^^ ed; and there is not probably on record a breach of 
public faith more nakedly and confessedly infamous 
than was that violation. 

None of this damning blot touches William — now king de 
facto of the two islands. He did his part ; and the truthful his- 
torian is bound on good evidence to assume for him that he 
saw with indignation and disgust the shameless and dastardly 
breach of that treaty by the dominant and all-powerful Pro- 
testant faction. We have seen how the lords justices came 
down from Dublin and approved and signed the treaty at 
Limerick.* The king bound public faith to it still more firm- 
ly, formally, and solemnly, by the issue of royal letters patent 
confirmatory of all its articles, issued from Westminster, 24th 
February, 1692, in the name of himself and queen Mary. 

We shall now see how this treaty was kept toward the 
Irish Catholics. 

The " Protestant interest" of Ireland, as they called them- 
selves, no sooner found the last of the Irish regiments shipped 



* Here it may be well to note an occurrence which some writers regard as a delib- 
erate and foul attempt to overreach and trick Sarsfield in the treaty, but which might, 
after all, have been accident. The day after the treaty was signed in " fair copy," it 
was discovered that one line — containing however one of the most important stipula- 
tions in the entire treaty — had been omitted in the '• fair copy'' by the Williamites, 
though duly set out in the " first draft" signed by both parties. The instant it was 
discovered, Sarsfield called on Ginckle to answer for it. The latter, and all the Wil- 
liamite •'contracting parties," declared the omission purely accidental— inserted 
the line in its right place, and, by a supplemental agreement, solemnly covenanted 
that this identical line should have a special confirmation from the king and parlia- 
ment. The king honorably did so. The parliament tore it into shreds ! 



470 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

from the Shannon, than they openly announced that the 
treaty would not, and ought not to be kept! It was the old 
story. Whenever the EngUsh sovereign or government de- 
sired to pause in the work of persecution and plunder, if not 
to treat the native Irish in a spirit of conciliation or justice, the 
"colony," the "plantation," the garrison, the " Protestant in- 
terest," screamed in frantic resistance. It was so in the rei^n of 
James the First ; it was so in the reign of Charles the First; 
it was so in the reign of Charles the Second ; it was so in the 
reign of James the second ; it was so in the reign of William 
and Mary. Any attempt of king or government to mete to 
the native Catholic population of Ireland any measure of 
treatment save what the robber and murderer metes out to his 
helpless victim was denounced — absolutely complained of — 
as a daring wrong and grievance against what was, and is 
still called the " Protestant interest," or '■ our glorious rights 
and liberties " * Indeed, no sooner had the lords justices 
returned from Limerick, than the Protestant pulpits com- 
menced to resound with denunciations of those who would ob- 
serve the treaty ; and Dopping, titular Protestant bishop of 
Meath, as Protestant historians record, preached before the 
lords justices themselves a notable sermon on '^ the crime of 
keeping faith with Papists." 

The " Protestant interest" party saw with indignation that 
the king meant to keep faith with the capitulated Catholics ; 
nay, possibly to consolidate the country by a comparatively 
conciliatory, just, and generous policy ; which was, they con- 
tended, monstrous. It quickly occurred to them, however, 
that as they were sure to be a strong majority in the parha- 
ment, they could take into their own hands the work of "re- 
construction," when they might freely wreak their will on the 
vanquished, and laugh to scorn all treaty faith. 

There was some danger of obstruction from the powerful 



' An occurrence ever " repeating itself." Even so recently as the year 1S67, on 
the rumor that the English government intended to grant some modicum of civil 
and religious equality in Ireland, this same " Protestant interest" faction screamed 
and yelled after the old fashion, complained of such an intention as a grievance, and 
went through the usual vows about " ottr glorious rights and liberties.'' 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 471 

Catholic minority entitled to sit in both houses of parliament ; 
but, for this danger the dominant faction found a specific. By 
an unconstitutional straining of the theory that each house 
was judge of the qualification of its members, they framed 
test oaths to exclude the minority. In utter violation of the 
treaty of Limerick — a clause in which, as we have seen, cove- 
nanted that no oath should be required of a Catholic other than 
the oath of allegiance therein set out — the parliamentary major- 
ity framed a test oath explicitly denying and denouncing the 
doctrines of transubstantiation, invocation of saints, and the 
sacrifice of the Mass, as " damnable and idolatrous." Of 
course the Catholic peers and commoners retired rather than 
take these tests, and the way was now all clear for the bloody 
work of persecution. 

In the so-called "Catholic parliament" — the parliament 
which assembled in Dublin in 1690, and which was opened by 
king James in person — the Catholics greatly preponderated 
(in just such proportion as the population was Catholic or 
Protestant) ; yet no attempt was made by iJiat majority to 
trample down or exclude the minority. Nay, the Protestant 
prelates all took their seats in the peers chamber, and debat- 
ed and divided as stoutly as ever throughout the session, 
while not a CatJiolic prelate sat in that " Catholic parliament" 
at all. It was the Catholics' day of power, and they used it 
generously, magnanimously, nobly. Sustainment of the king, 
suppression of rebellion, were the all-pervading sentiments. 
Tolerance of all creeds — freedom of conscience {ox Protestant and 
for Catholic — were the watchwords in that '• Catholic parlia- 
ment." 

And now, how was all this requited? Alas! We have 
just seen how ! Well might the Catholic in that hour, exclaim 
in the language used for him by Mr. De Vere in his poem :— 

We, too, had our day— it was brief : it is ended - 

When a king dwelt amono; us, no strancre king Imt ours ; 
When the shout of a people delivered ascended. 

And shook the broad banner that hung on his tow'rs. 
We saw it like trees in a summer breeze shiver 

We read the gold legend that blazoned it o'er: 
" To-day !— now or never ! To-day and for ever !" 

O God ! have we seen it, to see it no more ? 



472 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

How fared it that season, our lords and our masters, 

In that spring of our freedom, how fared it with you ! 
Did we trample your faith ? Did we mock your disasters ? 

We restored but his own to the leal and the true. 
Ye had fallen ! ' Twas a season of tempest and troubles, 

But against you we drew not the knife ye had drawn ; 
In the war-field we meet : but your prelates and nobles 

Stood up mid the senate in ermine and lawn ! 

It was even so, indeed. But nozv. What a contrast. Stran- 
gers to every sentiment of magnanimity, justice or com- 
passion, the victorious majority went at the work of proscrip- 
tion wholesale. The king, through lord justice Sydney, of- 
fered some resistance ; but, by refusing to vote him adequate 
supplies, they soon taught William that he had better not in- 
terfere with their designs. After four years' hesitancy, he 
yielded in unconcealed disgust. Forthwith ample supplies 
were voted to his majesty, and the parliament proceeded to 
practise freely the doctrine of " no faith to be kept with Pa- 
pists." 

Of course they began with confiscations. Plunder was ev- 
er the beginning and the end of their faith and practice. 
Soon 1,060,792 acres were declared " escheated to the crown." 
Then they looked into the existing powers of persecution, to 
see how far they were capable of extension. These were 
found to be atrocious enough ; nevertheless, the new parlia- 
ment added the following fresh enactments : — "i. An act to de- 
prive Catholics of the means of educating their children at home 
and abroad, and to render them incapable of being guardians of 
their own or any other person's children ; 2. An act to disarm 
the Catholics ; and 3. Another, to banish all the Catholic priests 
and prelates. Having thus violated the treaty, they gravely 
brought in a bill * to confirm the Articles of Limerick.' ' The 
very title of the bill,' says Dr. Crooke Taylor, 'contains evidence 
of its injustice. It is styled, " A bill for the confirmation of 
Articles (not the articles) made at the surrender of Limerick." 
And the preamble shows that the little word ' the' was not acci- 
dentally omitted. It runs thus : — " That the said articles, or 
so much of them as may consist zvith the safety and zvelfare of yojir 
majesty s subjects in these kingdoms, may be confirmed," etc. The 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 478 

parts that appeared to these legislators inconsistent with ' the 
safety and welfare of his majesty's subjects' was the first arti- 
cle, which provided for the security of the Catholics from all 
disturbances on account of their religion ; those parts of the 
second article which confirmed the Catholic gentry of Lim- 
erick, Clare, Cork, Kerry, and Mayo, in the possession of 
their estates, and allowed all Catholics to exercise their trades 
and professions without obstruction ; the fourth article, which 
extended the benefit of the peace to certain Irish officers then 
abroad ; the seventh article, which allowed the Catholic gen- 
try to ride armed ; the ninth article, which provides that the 
the oath of allegiance shall be the only oath required from 
Catholics, and one or two others of minor importance. All 
of these are omitted in the bill for ' The confirmation of arti- 
cles made at the surrender of Limerick.' 

" The Commons passed the bill without much difficulty. 
The House of Lords, however, contained some few of the an- 
cient nobility and some prelates who refused to acknowledge 
the dogma, * that no faith should be kept with Papists,' as 
an article of their creed. The bill was strenuously resisted, 
and when it was at length carried, a strong protest against it 
was signed by lords Londonderry, Tyrone, and Duncannon, 
the Barons of Ossory, Limerick, Killaloe, Kerry, Howth, 
Kingston, and Strabane, and, to their eternal honor be it said, 
the Protestant bishops of Kildare, Elphin, Derry, Clonfert, and 
Killala ! " * 

Thus was that solemn pact, which was in truth the treaty 
of the Irish nation with the newly set-up English regime, torn 
and trampled under foot by a tyrannic bigotry. 



M'Gee. 



471 THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 

LXXIV. — "THE PENAL TIMES." HOW " PROTESTANT ASCEN- 
DANCY" BY A BLOODY PENAL CODE ENDEAVORED TO 
ERUTIFY THE MIND, DESTROY THE INTELLECT, AND DE- 
FORM THE PHYSICAL AND MORAL FEATURES OF THE SUB- 
JECT CATHOLICS. 
) 

=/|| T was now there fell upon Ireland that night of deepest 

q)| horror — that agony the most awful, the most prolong- 
^O^ ed, of any recorded on the blotted page of human 

'>'{£ suffering. 

It would be little creditable to an Irish Catholic to own him- 
self capable of narrating this chapter of Irish history with 
calmness and without all-conquering emotion. For my part 
I content myself with citing the descriptions of it supplied 
by Protestant and English writers. 

" The eighteenth century," says one of these, writing on the 
penal laws in Ireland, "was the era of persecution, in which 
the law did the work of the sword more effectually and more 
safely. Then was established a code framed with almost 
diabolical ingenuity to extinguish natural affection — to foster per- 
fidy and Jiypocrisy — to petrify conscience — to perpetuate brutal ig- 
norance — to facilitate the zvork of tyranny — by rendering the 
vices of slavery inherent and natural in the Irish character, 
and to make Protestantism almost irredeemably odious as the 
monstrous incarnation of all moral perversions. 

"Too well," he continues, " did it accomplish its deadly 
work of debasement on the intellects, morals, and physical 
condition of a people sinking in degeneracy from age to age, 
till all manly spirit, all virtuous sense of personal independence 
and responsibihty, was nearly extinct, and the very features 
— vacant, timid, cunning, and unreflective — betrayed the 
crouching slave within ! " * 

* Cassell's (Godkin's) IIisto)y of Ireland, vol. ii., p, ll6. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 475 

In the presence of the terrible facts he is called upon to 
chronicle, the generous nature of the Protestant historian 
whom I am quoting, warms into indignation. Unable to en- 
dure the reflection, that they who thus labored to deform 
and brutify the Irish people are for ever reproaching them 
before the world for bearing traces of the infamous effort, he 
bursts forth into the following noble vindication of the cal- 
umniated victims of oppression : 

" Having no rights or franchises — no legal protection of 
life or property — disqualified to handle a gun, even as a com- 
mon soldier or a gamekeeper — forbidden to acquire the ele- 
ments of knowledge at home or abroad — forbidden even to 
render to God what conscience dictated as His due — what 
could the Irish be but abject serfs? What nation in their cir- 
cumstances could have been otherwise? Is it not amazing 
that any social virtue could have survived such an ordeal ? — 
that any seeds of good, any roots of national greatness, could 
have outlived such a long tempestuous winter?" 

" These laws," he continues, " were aimed not only at the 
religion of the Catholic, but still more at his liberty and his 
property. He could enjoy no freehold property, nor was he 
allowed to have a lease for a longer term than thirty-one 
years ; but as even this term was long enough to encourage 
an industrious man to reclaim waste lands and improve his 
worldly circumstances, it was enacted that if a Papist should 
have a farm producing a profit greater than one-third of the 
rent, his right to such should immediately cease, and pass 
over to the first Protestant who should discover the rate of 
profit ! " * 

This was the age that gave to Irish topography the '• Cor- 
rig-an-Afifrion," found so thickly marked on every barony map 
in Ireland. "The Mass Rock!" What memories cling 
around each hallowed moss-clad stone or rocky ledge on the 
mountain side, or in the deep recess of some desolate glen, 
whereon, for years and years, the Holy Sacrifice was offered 
up in stealth and secrecy, the death-penalty hanging over 

^ Cassell's (Godkiu's) History of Ireland, vol. ii. p. 119. 



476 THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 

priest and worshipper ! Not unfrequently Mass was inter- 
rupted by the approach of the bandogs of the law ; for, quick- 
ened by the rewards to be earned, there sprang up in those 
days the infamous trade of priest-hunting, " five pounds" 
being equally the government price for the head of a priest 
as for the head of a wolf. The utmost care was necessary 
in divulging inteUigence of the night on which Mass would 
next be celebrated ; and when the congregation had furtively 
stolen to the spot, sentries were posted all around before the 
Mass began. Yet in instances not a few, the worshippers 
were taken by surprise, and the blood of the murdered priest 
wetted the altar stone. 

Well might our Protestant national poet, Davis, exclaim^ 
contemplating this deep night-time of suffering and sorrow ; 

Oh ! weep those days— the penal days, 

When Ireland hopelessly complained ; 
Oh ! weep those days — the penal days 

When godless persecution reigned. 

* * * 

They bribed the flock, they bribed the son, 

To sell the priest and rob the sire ; 
Their dogs were taught alike to run 
Upon the scent of wolf and friar, 
Among the poor, 
Or on the moor. 
Were hid the pious and the true — 
While traitor, knave 
And recreant slave 
Had riches, rank, and retinue, 
And, exiled in those penal days. 
Our banners over Europe blaze. 

A hundred years of such a code in active operation, ought, 
according to all human calculations, to have succeeded in ac- 
complishing its malefic purpose. But again, all human cal- 
culations, all natural consequences and probabilities, were set 
aside, and God, as if by a miracle, preserved the faith, the 
virtue, the vitality, and power of the Irish race. He decreed 
that they should win a victory more glorious than a hundred 
gained on the battle-field — more momentous in its future 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 479 

results — in their triumph over the penal code. After three 
half centuries of seeming death, Irish Catholicity has rolled 
away the stone from its guarded sepulchre, and walked forth 
full of life ! It could be no human faith that, after such a 
crucifixion and burial, could thus arise glorious and immortal ! 
This triumph, the greatest, has been Ireland's; and God, in 
His own good time, will assuredly give her the fulness of vic- 
tory. 




LXXV.— THE IRISH ARMY IN EXILE. HOW SARSFIELD FELL ON 
LANDEN PLAIN. HOW THE REGIMENTS OF BURKE AND 
O'MAHONY saved CREMONA, FIGHTING IN " MUSKETS AND 
SHIRTS. " THE GLORIOUS VICTORY OF FONTENOY ! HOW 
THE IRISH EXILES, FAITHFUL TO THE END, SHARED THE 
LAST GALLANT EFFORT OF PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 

HE glory of Ireland was all abroad in those years. 
Spurned from the portals of the constitution established 
by the conqueror, the Irish slave followed with eager 
gaze the meteor track of " the Brigade." Namur, 
Steenkirk, Staffardo, Cremona, Ramillies, Fontenoy — each, in 
its turn, sent a thrill through the heart of Ireland. The 
trampled captive furtively lifted his head from the earth, and 
looked eastward, and his face was lighted up as by the beam 
of the morning sun. 

For a hundred years, that magnificent body, the Irish 
Brigade — (continuously recruited from home, though death 
was the penalty by English law) — made the Irish name syn- 
onymous with heroism and fidelity throughout Europe. 
Sarsfield was amongst the first to meet a soldier's death. But 
he fell in the arms of victory, and died, as the old annalists 
would say, with his mind and his heart turned to Ireland. 
In the bloody battle of Landen,' fought 29th July, 1693, he 
fell mortally wounded, while leading a victorious charge of 
the Brigade. The ball had entered near his heart, and while 



480 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

he lay on the field his corslet was removed in order that the 
wound might be examined. He himself, in a pang of pain, 
put his hand to his breast as if to staunch the wound. When 
he took away his hand, it was full of blood. Gazing at it lor 
a moment sorrowfully, he faintly gasped out : Oh / tJuxt tins 
were for Ireland ! " He never spoke again ! 

His place was soon filled from the ranks of the exiled Irish 
nobles — those illustrious men whose names are emblazoned 
on the glory roll of France — and the Brigade went for- 
ward in its path of victory. At Cremona, 1702, an Irish regi- 
ment, most of the men fighting in their shirts — (the place had 
been surprised in the dead of night by treachery) — saved the 
town under most singular circumstances. Duke Villeroy, 
commanding the French army, including two Irish regiments 
under O'Mahony and Burke, held Cremona; his adversary, 
Prince Eugene, commanding the Germans, being encamped 
around Mantua. Treason was at work, however, to betra}^ 
Cremona. One night a partisan of the Germans within the 
walls, traitorously opened one of the gates to the Austrian 
troops. Before the disaster was discovered, the French gen- 
eral, most of the officers, the military chests, etc., were takeui 
and the German horse and foot were in possession of the town, 
excepting one place only — the Po Gate, which was guarded 
by the two Irish regiments. In fact, Prince Eugene had al- 
ready taken up his head-quarters in the town hall, and 
Cremona was virtually in his hands. The Irish were called 
on to surrender the Po Gate. They answered with a volley. 
The Austrian general, on learning they were Irish troops 
desired to save brave men from utter sacrifice — for he had 
Irish in his own service, and held the men of Ireland in high 
estimation. He sent to expostulate with them, and show 
them the madness of sacrificing their lives where they could 
have no probability of relief, and to assure them that if they 
would enter into the imperial service, they should be directly 
and honorably promoted. " The first part of this proposal, " 
says the authority I have been following, "they heard with 
impatience; the second, with disdain. ' Tell the prince, ' said 
they, ' that we have hitherto preserved the honor of our 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 481 

country, and that we hope this day to convince him we are 
worthy of his esteem. IV/ii/e one of us exists, the German 
eagles shall not be displayed upon these walls.'"' The attack 
upon them was forthwith commenced by a large body of foot, 
supported by five thousand cuirassiers. As 1 have already 
noted, the Irish, having been aroused from their sleep, had 
barely time to clutch their arms and rush forth undressed. 
Davis, in his ballad of Cremona, informs us, indeed (very pro- 
bably more for " rhyme " than with " reason ") that 

the major is drest ; 

adding, however, the undoubted fact — 

But mitskeis and shirts are the clothes of the rest. 

A bloody scene of street fighting now ensued, and before the 
morning sun had risen high, the naked Irish had recovered 
nearly half the city ! 

"In on them," said Friedberg — "and Dillon is broke, 
Like forest flowers crushed by the fall of the oak. 
Through the naked battalions the cuirassiers go,— 
But the man, not the dress, makes the soldier, I trow. 
Upon them with grapple, with bay'net, and ball, 
Like wolves, upon gaze-hounds the Irishmen fall — 
Black Friedberg is slain by O'Mahony's steel, 
And back from the bullets the cuirassiers reel. 

Oh! hear you their shout in your quarters, Eugene? 
In vain on Prince Vaudemont for succor you lean ! 
The bridge has been broken, and mark ! how pell mell 
Come riderless horses and volley and yell ! 
He's a veteran soldier— he clenches his hands, 
He springs on his horse, disengages his bands — 
He rallies, he urges, till, hopeless of aid. 
He is chased through the gates by the Irish Brigade. " 

It was even so. " Before evening, " we are told, " the enemy 
were completely expelled the town, and the general and 
military chests recovered l'' Well might the poet undertake 
to describe as here quoted the effects of the news in Austria, 
England, France, and Ireland — 

News, news in Vienna ! — King Leopold's sad. 
News, news in St. James's! — King William is mad. 
News, news in Versailles ! — ' Let the Irish Brigade 
Be loyally honored, and royally paid.' 



482 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

News, news in old Ireland ! — high rises her pride, 
And loud sounds her wail for her children who died ; 
And deep is her prayer—' God send I may see 
MacDonnell and Mahoney fighting for me ! ' 

Far more memorable, however, far more important, was 
the ever-glorious day of Fontenoy — a name which to this day 
thrills the Irish heart with pride. Of this great battle — fought 
nth May, 1745 — in which the Irish Brigade turned the tor- 
tunes of the day, and saved the honor of France, I take the 
subjoined account, prefixed to Davis's well-known poem, 
which I also quote : — 

" A French army of seventy-nine thousand men, command- 
ed by Marshal Saxe, and encouraged by the presence of both 
the King and the Dauphin, laid siege to Tournay, early in 
May, 1745. The Duke of Cumberland advanced at the head 
of fifty-five thousand men, chiefly English and Dutch, to 
relieve the town. At the Duke's approach, Saxe and the 
King advanced a few miles from Tournay with forty-five 
thousand men, leaving eighteen thousand to continue the 
siege, and six thousand to guard the Scheldt. Saxe posted 
his army along a range of slopes thus : his centre was on the 
village of Fontenoy, his left stretched off through the wood 
of Barri, his right reached to the town of St. Antoine, close 
to the Scheldt. He fortified his right and centre by the 
villages of Fontenoy and St. Antoine, and redoubts near 
them. His extreme left was also strengthened by a redoubt 
in the wood of Barri ; but his left centre, between that wood 
and the village of Fontenoy, was not guarded by anything 
save slight lines. Cumberland had the Dutch, under 
Waldeck, on his left, and twice they attempted to carry St. 
Antoine, but were repelled with heavy loss. The same fate 
attended the English in the centre, who thrice forced their 
way to Fontenoy, but returned fewer and sadder men. In- 
goldsby was then ordered to attack the wood of Barri with 
Cumberland's right. He did so, and broke into the wood, 
when the "artillery of the redoubt suddenly opened on him, 
which, assisted by a constant fire from the French tirailleurs 
(light infantry), drove him back. 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 483 

" The Duke now resolved to make one great and final 
effort. He selected his best regiments, veteran English 
corps and formed them into a single column of six thousand 
men. At its head were six cannon, and as many more on 
the flanks, which did good service. Lord John Hay com- 
manded this great mass. Everything being now ready, the 
column advanced slowly and evenly as if on the parade 
ground. It mounted the slope of Saxe's position, and press- 
ed on between the wood of Barri and the village of Fontenoy. 
In doing so, it was exposed to a cruel fire of artillery and 
sharpshooters, but it stood the storm, and got behind Font e7ioy ! 

"The moment the object of the column was seen, the 
French troops were hurried in upon them. The cavalry 
charged ; but the English hardly paused to offer the raised 
bayonet, and then poured in a fatal fire. On they went, till 
within a short distance, and then threw in their balls with 
great precision, the officers actually laying their canes along 
the muskets to make the men fire low. Mass after mass of 
infantry was broken, and on went the column, reduced but 
still apparently invincible ! Due Richelieu had lour cannon 
hurried to the front, and he literally battered the head of the 
column, while the household cavalry surrounded them, and 
in repeated charges, wore down their strength. But these 
French were fearful sufferers. The day seemed virtually 
lost, and King Louis was about to leave the field. In this 
juncture, Saxe ordered up his last reserve — the Irish Brigade. 
It consisted that day of the regiments of Clare, Lally, Dil- 
lon, Berwick, Roth, and Buckley, with Fitzjames's horse. 
O'Brien, Lord Clare, was in command. Aided by the 
French regiments of Normandy and Vaisseany, they were 
ordered to charge upon the flank of the English with fixed 
bayonets without firing. Upon the approach of this splendid 
body of men, the English were halted on the slope of a hill, 
and up that slope the Brigade rushed rapidly and in fine 
order; the stimulating cry of ' Cuimhnigidh ar Liumneac, 
agus ar fheile na Sacsanach,' ' Remember Limerick and British 
faith' being re-echoed from man to man. The fortune of 
the field was no longer doubtful. The English were weary 



484 THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 

with a long day's fighting, cut up by cannon, charge, and 
musketry, and dispirited by the appearance of the Brigade. 
Still they gave their fire well and fatally ; but they were 
literally stunned by the shout, and shattered by the Irish 
charge. They broke before the Irish bayonets, and tumbled 
down the far side of the hill disorganized, hopeless and falling 
by hundreds. The victory was bloody and complete. Louis 
is said to have ridden down to the Irish bivouac, and per- 
sonally thanked them ; and George the second, on hearing 
it, uttered that memorable imprecation on the penal code, 
' Cursed be the laws which deprive me of such subjects.' 
The one English volley and the short struggle on the crest 
of the hill cost the Irish dear. One fourth of the officers, in- 
cludinof Colonel Dillon, were killed, and one-third of the 
men. The capture of Ghent, Bruges, Ostend, and Oudenard, 
followed the victory of Fontenoy." 

Thrice, at the huts of Fontenoy, the EngHsh column failed, 
And thrice the Hnes of St. Antoine the Dutch in vain assailed ; 
For town and slope were filled with foot and flanking battery, 
And well they swept the English ranks and Dutch auxiliary. 
As vainly, through De Barri's Wood the British soldier burst, 
The French artillery drove them back, diminished and dispersed. 
The bloody Dirke of Cumberland beheld with anxious eye, 
And ordered up his last reserve, his latest chance to try. 
On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, how fast his generals ride! 
And mustering come his chosen troops, like clouds at eventide. 

Six thousand English veterans in stately column tread ; 
Their cannon blaze in front and flank ; Lord Hay is at their head ; 
Steady they step adown the slope — steady they climb the hill, 
Steady they load— steady they fire, moving right onward still. 
Betwixt the wood and Fontenoy, as through a furnace blast, 
Through rampart, trench, and pallisade, and bullets showering fast ; 
And on the open plain above they rose and kept their course. 
With ready fire and grim resolve, that mocked at hostile force. 
Past Fontenoy, past Fontenoy, while thinner grow their ranks — 
They break as broke the Zuyder Zee through Holland's ocean banks. 

More idly than the summer flies, French tirailleurs rush round ; 

As stubble to the lava tide, French squadrons strew the ground ; 

Bombshell and grape, and round shot tore, still on they marched and fired— 

Fast from each volley grenadier and voltigeur retired. 

"Push on my household cavalry." King Eouis madly cried. 

To death they rush, but rude their shock — not unavenged they died. 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 485 

On through the camp the column trod — King Louis turns his rein : 
^'Not yet, my liege" Saxe interposed, " the Irish troops remain; " 
And Fontenoy, famed Fontenoy had been a Waterloo, 
Were not these exiles ready then, fresh, vehement, and true, 

"Lord Clare," he says, " you have your wish : there are your Saxon foes !" 

The Marshal almost smiles to see, so furiously he goes ! 

How fierce the smile these exiles wear, vvho're wont to look so gay ; 

The treasured wrongs of fifty years are in their hearts to-day. 

The treaty broken ere the ink wherewith 't was writ could dry, 

Their plundered homes, their ruined shrines, their women's parting cry, 

Their priesthood hunted down like wolves, their country overthrown ! 

Each looks as if revenge for all were staked on him alone. 

On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, nor ever yet elsewhere. 

Pushed on to fight a nobler band than those proud exiles were. 

O'Brien's voice is hoarse with joy, as halting he commands, 

"Fix bay'nets— charge." — Like mountain storm rush on these fiery bands ! 

Thin is the English column now, and faint their volleys grow. 

Yet must'ring all the strength they have, they made a gallant show. 

They dress their ranks upon the hill to face that battle wind ; 

Their bayonets the breakers' foam ; like rocks the men behind ! 

One volley crashes from their line, when through the surging smoke, 

With empty guns clutched in their hands, the headlong Irish broke. 

On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, hark to that fierce huzza ! 

" Revenge ! remember Limerick ! dash down the Sassenagh ! 

Like lions leaping at a fold when mad with hunger's pang, 

Right up against the English line the Irish exiles sprang. 

Bright was their steel, 't is bloody now, their guns are filled with gore ; 

Through shattered ranks, and severed piles, and trampled flags they tore ; 

The English strove with desperate strength, paused, rallied, staggered, fled — 

The green hill-side is matted close with dying and with dead. 

Across the plain and far away passed on that hideous wrack, 

While cavalier and fantassin dash in upon their track. 

On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, like eagles in the sun, 

With bloody plumes the Irish stand — the field is fought and won ! 

In the year of Fontenoy, 1745, Prince Charles Edward made 
his bold and romantic attempt to recover the lost crown of 
the Stuarts. His expedition, we are told, " was undertaken 
and conducted by Irish aid, quite as much as by French or 
Scottish." His chief of command was Colonel O'SuUivan ; 

the most of the funds were supplied by the two Waters father 

and son — Irish bankers at Paris, " who advanced one hundred 
and eighty thousand livres between them;" another Irishman, 



486 THE STORY OF IKEIAND. 

Walsh, a merchant at Nantes, putting " a privateer of eighteen 
guns into the venture. " Indeed, one of Charles' English 
adherents. Lord Elcho, who kept a journal of the campaign, 
notes complainingly the Irish influence under which the prince 
acted. On the 19th July, he landed near Moidart, in the 
north of Scotland. " Clanronald, Cameron of Lochiel, the 
Laird of M'Leod, and a few others having arrived, the royal 
standard was unfurled on the 19th August at Glenfinan, where 
that evening, twelve thousand men — the entire army, so far — 
were formed into camp under the orders of O' Sullivan. From 
that day until the day of Culloden, O'SuUivan seems to have 
manoeuvred the prince's forces. At Perth, at Edinburgh, at 
Manchester, at Culloden, he took command in the field or in 
the garrison ; and even after the sad result, he adhered to his 
sovereign's son with an honorable fidelity which defied 
despair. " * 

In Ireland no corresponding movement took place. Yet 
this is the period which has given to native Irish minstrelsy, 
as it now survives, its abiding characteristic of deep, fervent, 
unchangeable, abiding devotion to the Stuart cause. The 
Gaelic harp never gave forth richer melody, Gaelic poetry 
never found nobler inspiration, than in its service. In those 
matchless songs, which under the general designation of " Ja- 
cobite Relics," are, and ever will be, so potential to touch the 
Irish heart with sadness or enthusiasm, under a thousand forms 
of allegory the coming of Prince Charles, the restoration of 
the ancient faith, and the deliverance of Ireland by the " right- 
ful prince," are prophesied and apostrophied. Now it is 
" Dark Rosaleen ;" now it is " Kathaleen-na-Houlahan ;" now 
it is the " Blackbird," the " Drimin Don Deelish," the " Silk 
of the Kine," or " Ma Chrevin Evin Algan Og." From this 
rich store of Gaelic poetry of the eighteenth century I quote 
one specimen, a poem written about the period of Charles 
Edward's landing at Moidart, by William Heffernan " Dall " 
("the Blind ") of Shronehill, count}- Tipperary, and addressed 
to the Prince of Ossory, Michael Mac Giolla Kerin, known 

• M'Gee. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 487 

as Mehal Dhu, or Dark Michael. The translation into Eng- 
lish is by Mangan : — 

Lift up the drooping head, 

Meehal Dhu Mac-GioIIa-Kierin ; 
Her blood yet boundeth red 

Through the myriad veins of Erin ; 
No ! no ! she is not dead — 

Meehal Dhu Mac-Giolla-Kierin ! 
Lo ! she redeems 
The lost years of bygone ages — 

New glory beams 
Henceforth on her history's pages 1 
Her long penitential Night of Sorrow 
Yields at length before the reddening morrow ! 

You heard the thunder-shout, 

Meehal Dhu Mac-Giolla-Kierin 
Saw the lightning streaming out 

O'er the purple hills of Erin ! 
And bide you still in doubt, 

Meehal Dhu Mac-Giolla-Kierin? 
Oh ! doubt no more ! 
Through Ulidia's voiceful valleys, 

On Shannon's shore, 
Freedom's burning spirit rallies. 
Earth and heaven unite in sign and omen 
Bodeful of the downfall of our foemen. 

■* * ' * » ^ 

Charles leaves the Grampian hills, 

Meehal Dhu Mac-Giolla-Kierin, 
Charles whose appeal yet thrills 

Like a clarion-blast through Erin. 
Charles, he whose image fills 

Thy soul too, Mac-Giolla-Kierin ! 
Ten thousand strong 
His clans move in brilliant order, 

Sure that ere long 
He will march them o'er the border. 
While the dark -haired daughters of the Highlands 
Crown with wreaths the monarch of these islands. 

But it was only in the passionate poesy of the native min- 
strels that any echo of the shouts from Moidart resounded 
midst the hills of Erin. During all this time the hapless Irish 
Catholics resigned themselves utterly to the fate that had be- 



488 THE STOBI OF IRELAND. 

fallen them. For a moment victory gleamed on the Stuart 
banner, and the young prince marched southward to claim 
his own in London. Still Ireland made no sign. Hope had 
fled. The prostrate and exhausted nation slept heavily in its 
blood-clotted chain ! 



xl • °- 



LXXVI. — HOW IRELAND BEGAN TO AWAKEN FROM THE SLEEP 
OF SLAVERY. THE DAWN OF LEGISLATIVE INDEPENDENCE. 

(|9^RELAND lay long in that heavy trance. The signal 
l%l for her awakening came across the western ocean. 
"A voice from America," says Flood, "shouted ' Lib- 
erty ;' and every hill and valley of this rejoicing island 
answered, ' Liberty !' " 

For two centuries the claim of the English parliament to 
control, direct, and bind the Irish legislature, had been the 
subject of bitter dispute. The claim was first formally as- 
serted and imposed in the reign of Henry the Seventh, when 
a servile '* parliament," gathered at Drogheda, in November,. 
1495, by lord deputy Poynings, amongst other acts of self- 
degradation, at the bidding of the English official, enacted that 
henceforth no law could be originated in the Irish legislature, 
or proceeded with, until the heads of it had first been sent to 
England, submitted to the king and council there, and return- 
ed with their approbation under seal. This was the celebrat- 
ed " Poynings' Act," or " Poynings' Law," which readers of 
Grattan's Life and Times will find mentioned so frequently. 
It was imposed as a most secure chain — a ponderous curb — 
at a crisis when resistance was out of the question. It was, in 
moments of like weakness or distraction, submitted to; but 
ever and anon in flashes of spirit, the Irish parliaments repu- 
diated the claim as illegal, unconstitutional, and unjust. On 
the i6th February, 1640, the Irish House of Commons sub- 
mitted a set of queries to the judges, the nature of which may 
be inferred from the question- '* Whether the subjects of this 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 489 

kingdom be a free people, and to be governed only by the 
common law of England 2iXiA statutes passed in this kingdom f" 
When the answers received were deemed insufficient, the 
House turned the questions into the form of resolutions, and 
proceeded to vote on them, one by one, affirming in every 
point the rights, the liberties, and the privileges of their con- 
stituents. The Confederation of Kilkenny still more explicit- 
ly and boldly enunciated and asserted the doctrine that 
Ireland was a distinct, free, sovereign, and independent nation, 
subject only to the triple-crown of the three kingdoms. The 
Cromwellian rebellion tore down this, as it trampled upon so 
many other of the rights and liberties of all three king- 
doms. The " restoration" came ; but in the reign of the 
second Charles, the Dublin parliament was too busy in scram- 
bling for retention of plunder and resistance of restitution, to 
utter an aspiration for liberty ; it bowed the neck to " Poy- 
ninofs' law." To the so-called " Catholic Parliament" of Ire- 
land in James the Second's reign belongs the proud honor of 
making the next notable declaration of independence ; 
amongst the first acts of this legislature being one declaring 
the complete and perfect freedom of the Irish Parliament. 
" Though they were ' Papists,' " says Grattan, " these men 
were not slaves; they wrung a constitution from King James 
before they accompanied him to the field." Once more, how- 
ever, came successful rebellion to overthrow the sovereign 
and the parliament, and again the doctrine of national inde- 
pendence disappeared. The Irish legislature in the first years 
of the new regime sunk into the abject condition of a mere 
committee of the English parliament. 

Soon, however, the spirit of resistance began to appear. 
For a quarter of a century the Protestant party had been so 
busy at the work of persecution — so deeply occupied inforg^ 
ing chains for their Catholic fellow-countrymen — that they 
never took thought of the political thraldom being imposed 
upon themselves by the English parliament. " The Irish 
Protestant," says Mr. Wyse, "had succeeded in excluding the 
Catholics from power, and for a moment held triumphant and 
exclusive possession of the conquest ; but he was merel}- n 



490 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

locum tencns for a more powerful conqueror, a jackal for the 
lion, an Irish steward for an English master. The exclusive 
system was turned against him ; he made the executive ex- 
clusively Protestant ; the Whigs of George the First made it 
almost entirely English. His victory proved the way for 
another far easier and far more important. Popery fell, but 
Ireland fell with it."* In 1719, the question came to a direct 
issue. In a lawsuit between Hester Sherlock, appellant, and 
Maurice Annesley, respondent, relating to some property in 
the county Kildare, the Irish Court of Exchequer decided in 
favor of the respondent. On an appeal to the Irish House of 
Peers, this judgment was reversed. The respondent, Annes- 
ley, now appealed to the English House of Peers in England, 
which body annulled the decision of the Irish Peers, and 
confirmed that of the Exchequer Court. The sheriff of Kil- 
dare, however, recognizing the decision of the Irish Peers, 
and declining to recognize the jurisdiction of the English 
tribunal, refused to obey an order calling on him to put An- 
nesley into possession of the estate. The Irish Court of Ex- 
chequer thereupon inflicted a fine upon the sheriff. The Irish 
peers removed the fine, and voted that the sheriff " had be- 
haved with integrity and courage." This bold course evoked 
the following galling enactment by the English House: 

" Whereas, the lords of Ireland have of late, 

against law, assumed to themselves a power and jurisdiction 
to examine and amend the judgments and decrees of the 
courts of justice in Ireland; therefore, etc., it is declared and 

enacted, etc that the King's Majesty, by and with 

the advice and consent of the lords spiritual and temporal 
and commons of Great Britain in parliament assembled, had, 
hath, and of right ought to have, full power and authorit)- to 
make laws and statutes of sufficient force and validity to bind 
the people of the kingdom of Ireland. And it is further 
enacted and declared, that the House of Lords of Ireland 
have not, nor of right ought to have, any jurisdiction to judge 
of, affirm, or reverse any judgment, etc., made in any court in 
the said kinsfdom." 



* His. Cath. Association, page 27. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 491 

Here was " Poynings' law" reenacted with savage explicit- 
ness ; a heavy bit set between the jaws of the restive Irish 
legislature. 

This rough and insulting assertion of subjugation stung the 
Protestants to the quick. They submitted; but soon there 
began to break forth from amongst them men who commenc- 
ed to utter the words Country and Patriotism. These "rash" 
and *• extreme" doctrinaires were long almost singular in their 
views. Wise men considered them insane when they " raved" 
of recovering the freedom of parliament. " Repeal Poynings' 
law ! — restore the heptarchy !'' cried one philosopher. " Liber- 
ate the parliament ! — a splendid phantom !" cried another. 
Nevertheless, the so called doctrinaires grew in popularity. 
Their leader was the Very Rev. Jonathan Swift, Protestant 
dean of St. Patrick's. His precursor was William Molyneux, 
member for the Dublin University, who, in 1691, published 
the first great argumentative vindication of Irish legislative 
independence— 77^<? Case of Ireland Stated. Immediately on 
its appearance, the English parliament took alarm, and order- 
ed the book to be " burned by the hands of the common 
hangman." Swift took up the doctrines and arguments of 
Molyneux, and made them all-prevalent amongst the masses 
ot the people. But the " upper classes " thought them " vi- 
sionary " and " impracticable ;" nay, seditious and disloyal. 
Later on — in the middle of the century — Dr. Charles Lucas, 
a Dublin apothecary, became the leader of the anti-English 
party. Of course, he was set down as disaffected. A resolu- 
tion of the servile Irish House of Commons declared him " an 
enemy to his country :" and he had to fly from Ireland for a 
time. His popularity, however, increased, and the popular 
suspicion and detestation of the English only required an op- 
portunity to exhibit itself in overt acts. In 1759, a rumor 
broke out in Dublin that a legislative union (on the model of 
the Scoto-English amalgamation just accomplished) was in 
contemplation. " On the 3d December, the citizens rose en 
masse and surrounded the houses of parliament. They stop- 
ped the carriages of members, and obliged them to swear op- 
position to such a measure. Some of the Protestant bishops 



492 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

and the chancellor were roughly handled ; a privy councillor 
was thrown into the river ; the attorney-general was wound- 
ed and obliged to take refuge in the College ; Lord Inchiquin 
was abused till he said his name was O'Brien, when the rage 
of the people was turned into acclamations. The speaker, 
Mr. Ponsonby, and the chief secretary, Mr. Rigby,had to ap- 
pear in the porch of the House of Commons, solemnly to as- 
sure the citizens that no union was dreamed of, and if it was 
proposed that they would be the first to oppose it."* 

The union scheme had to be abandoned; and Lucas soon after- 
returned from exile, to wield increased power. The " seditious 
agitator," the solemnly declared " enemy of his country," was 
triumphantly returned to parliament by the citizens of Dublin, 
having as fellow-laborers, returned at the same time, Hussey 
Burgh and Henry Flood. Lucas did not live many years to 
enjoy his well-earned honors. In 1770 he was followed to the 
grave by every demonstration of national regret. " At his 
funeral the pall was borne by the Marquis of Kildare, Lord 
Charlemont, Mr. Flood, Mr. Hussey Burgh, Sir Lucius 
(3'Brien, and Mr. Ponsonby." And the citizens of Dublin, to 
perpetuate the memory of the once banished " disloyalist," 
set up his marble statue in their civic forum, where it stands 
to this day.f 

While the country was thus seething with discontent, chaf- 
ing under the " Poy ning " yoke, there rolled across the Atlantic 
the echoes of Bunker's Hill ; Protestant dominancy paused in 
its work of persecution, and bowed in homage to the divine 
spirit of Liberty ! 

' M'Gee. 
t Lucas was, politically, a thorough nationalist, but, religiously, a bigot. The Irish 
n«tion he conceived to be the Irish Protestants. The idea of admitting the Catholics — 
the mass of the population — within the constitution, found in him a rabid opponent. 
Yet the Catholics of Ireland, to their eternal honor, have ever condoned his rabid 
bigotry against themselves, remembering his labors for the principle of nationality. 




THE STORY OF IRELAND. 493 



LXXVII. — HOW THE IRISH VOLUNTEERS ACHIEVED THE LEGIS- 
LATIVE INDEPENDENCE OF IRELAND ; OR, HOW THE MORAL 
FORCE OF A CITIZEN ARMY EFFECTED A PEACEFUL, LEGAL, 
AND CONSTITUTIONAL REVOLUTION. 

HE first effort of the " patriot party," as for some years 
past they had been called, was to limit the duration 
of parliaments (at this time elected for the life of the 
king), so that the constituents might oftener have an 
opportunity — even by such cumbrous and wretchedly in- 
effective means as the existing electoral system provided — of 
judging the conduct of their members. In 1760, Lucas and 
his fellow-nationalists succeeded in carrying resolutions for 
" heads of a bill," limiting the parliaments to seven years. In 
accordance with " Poynings' law," the " heads " were trans- 
mitted to London for sanction, but were never heard of more. 
In 1763, they were again carried in the Irish house, again sent 
to London, again cancelled there. Irish popular feeling now 
began to be excited. Again, a third time, the " Septennial 
Bill" was carried through the Irish parliament, again sent to 
London, and again ignominiously vetoed there. But now 
the infatuation of England had overleaped itself. A spirit 
was aroused in Ireland before which the government quailed. 
K fourth time, amidst ominous demonstrations of popular de- 
termination, the thrice rejected " heads of a bill" were sent 
across. This time they were returned approved ; but the 
seven years were altered to eight years, a paltry and miserable 
assertion of mastery, even while yielding under fear. But the 
impartial student will note that by some malign fatality it 
happens that even up to the present hour every concession 
granted by England to Irish demands was invariably refused 
till passion was inflamed, and has been conceded only on 
compulsion, The concession that, had it been made cheerful- 
ly and graciously at first, might have elicited good will and 
gratitude, has always been denied as long as it durst for safety 



494 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

be withheld, and been granted only when some home or for- 
eign difficulty rendered Irish discontent full of danger. 

Concessions thus made are taken without thanks, and only 
give strength and determination to further demands. The 
patriot party followed up their first decisive victory by cam- 
paigns upon the pension list, the dependence of the judges, the 
voting of supply, etc. ; the result being continuous, violent, 
and bitter conflict between the parliament and the viceroy ; 
popular feeling rising and intensifying, gaining strength and- 
force every hour. 

Meanwhile America, on issues almost identical, had taken the 
field, and, aided by France, was holding England in deadly 
struggle. Towards the close of the year 1779, while Ireland 
as well as England was denuded of troops, the government sent 
warning that some French or American privateers might be 
expected on the Irish coast, but confessing that no regular 
troops could be spared for local defence. The people of 
Belfast were the first to make a significant answer to this warn- 
ing, by enrolling volunteer corps. The movement spread 
rapidly throughout the island, and in a short time the govern- 
ment with dismay beheld the patriot party in parliament sur- 
rounded by a volunteer army filled with patriotic ardor and 
enthusiasm. Every additional battalion of volunteers enrol- 
led added to the moral power wielded by those leaders, whose 
utterances grew in boldness amidst the flashing swords and 
bayonets of a citizen army one hundred thousand strong. The 
nation by this time had become unanimous in its resolution to 
be free; a corrupt or timid group of courtiers or placemen 
alone making a sullen and half-hearted fight against the now 
all-powerful nationalists. Under the healing influence of 
this sentiment of patriotism, the gaping wounds of a century 
began to close. The Catholic slave, though still outside the 
pale of the constitution, forgot his griefs and his wrongs for 
the moment, and gave all his energies in aid of the national 
movement. He bought the musket which law denied to him- 
self the right to bear, and placing it in the hand of his Protest- 
ant fellow-countryman, bade him go forward in the glor- 
ious work of liberating their common fatherland. 



THE STORY OF IRELA>fD, 495 

Free trade became now the great object of endeavor. 
The trade of Ireland at this time had been almost extinguished 
by repressive enactments passed by the English parliament 
in London, or by its shadow in Dublin in by-gone years, 
Immediately on the accession of William the Third, the Eng- 
lish lords and commons addressed the king, praying his majesty 
to declare to his Irish subjects that "the growth and increase 
of the woollen manufacture hath long been, and will ever be 
looked upon with great jealousy," and threatening very plainly 
that they might otherwise have to enact ''very strict laws to- 
tally to abolish the same ^^ William answered them-, promising 
to do "all that in him lay" to "discourage the woollen manu- 
factui-e there." 'T were long to trace and to recapitulate the 
multifarious laws passed to crush manufacture and commerce 
of rt;// kinds in Ireland in accordance with the above cited ad-- 
dress and ro3^al promise. Englishmen in our day are con- 
stantly reproaching Ireland with absence of manufactures and 
commerce, and inviting this country to "wake up" and compete 
with England in the markets of the world. This may be mal- 
ignant sarcasm, or it may be the ignorance of defective infor- 
mation. When one country has been by law forbidden to 
engage in manufactures or commerce, until the other has 
protected and nursed her own into vigor and maturity, and 
has secured possession of the world's markets, the invitation to 
the long restricted and now crippled country to "compete" 
on the basis of free-trade, is as much of a mockery, as to call 
for a race between a trained athlete and a half-crippled cap- 
tive, who has, moreover, been forcibly and foully detained 
till the other has neared the winning post. 

To liberate Irish trade from such restraints was now the 
resolve of the patriot party in the Irish parliament. On the 
1 2th October 1779, they carried an address to the viceroy, 
declaring that "by free trade alone" could the nation be saved 
from impending ruin. Again England ungraciously and sour- 
ly complied, and once more clogged her compliance with 
embittering addenda ! These concessions, which the secretary 



English Lords' yonrnal 1698, pp. 314, 315. 



496 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

of state was assuring the Irish parliament were freely bestowed 
by English generosity, were no sooner made public in England 
than Mr. Pitt had to send circular letters to the manufacturing 
towns, assuring them " that nothing effectual had been granted 
in Ireland." 

But the Irish leaders were now about to crown their liber- 
ating efforts by a work which would henceforth place the 
destinies of Irish trade beyond the power of English jealousy, 
and beneath the protecting aegis of a free and independent 
native legislature. On the 19th April, 1780, Grattan moved 
that resolution which is the sum and substance in its simple 
completeness of the Irish national constitutional doctrine: — 
" that no power on earth, save that of the king, lords, and com- 
mons of Ireland, has a right to make lazvs to bind this kingdom.'^ 

The motion was unsuccessful ; but this was the commence- 
ment of the great struggle ; and over the vital issue now rais- 
ed — complete legislative independence — the government 
fought with an unscrupulous energy. Throughout two years 
the contest was pursued with unintermitting severity, when 
suddenly Europe was electrified by the intelligence that the 
British armies had capitulated to the " rebel colonists," and 
the " star-spangled banner" appeared on the western horizon, 
proclaiming the birth of a new power destined to be the ter 
ror of tyrants, the hope of the oppressed, all over the world 

It was England's day of humiliation and dismay. By clutch- 
ing at the right of oppression in her hour of fancied strength, 
she had lost America. It was not clear that through the same 
course she was not about to drive Ireland also from the de- 
mand for legislative independence into the choice of complete 
separation. 

The Ulster volunteers now decided to hold a national con- 
vention of delegates from every citizen regiment in the pro- 
vince. On the day fixed — Friday, 15th February, 1782 — and 
at the appointed place of meeting — the Protestant church of 
Dungannon, county Tyrone, the convention assembled ; and 
there, amidst a scene the most glorious witnessed in Ireland 
for years, the delegates of the citizen army solemnly swore 
allegiance ♦^o the charter of national liberty, denouncing as 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 497 

" unconstitutional, illegal, and a grievance," " the claim of any 
body of men, other than the king, lords, and commons of Ire- 
land, to make laws to bind this kingdom." The Dungannon 
resolutions were enthusiastically ratified and reasserted by 
the several volunteer corps, the municipal corporations, and 
public meetings, all over the island ; and soon, outside the 
circle of corrupt and servile castle placemen, no voice durst 
be raised against the demand for liberty. 

A conciliatory, that is, a temporizing ministry now came 
into power in London, and in their choice of lord lieutenant 
for Ireland — the duke of Portland — they found a very suitable 
man, apparently, for their designs or experiments. But the 
duke " on his arrival found the nation in a state in which 
neither procrastination nor evasion was any longer practica- 
ble." He reported to England the danger of resistance and 
the advisability of temporizing, that is, of yielding as little as 
possible, but yielding «// if necessary. Accordingly, a message 
was delivered by the king to the British parliament, setting 
forth " that mistrusts and jealousies had arisen in Ireland, and 
that it was highly necessary to take the same into immediate 
consideration in order to a final adjustment." Meanwhile the 
viceroy in Dublin was plausibly endeavoring to wheedle 
Grattan and the other patriot leaders into procrastination, or, 
failing this, to tone down, to " moderate," the terms of the 
popular demand. Happily Grattan was sternly firm. He 
would not consent to even a days postponement of the question, 
and refused to alter a jot of the national ultimatum. An eye- 
witness has described for us the great scene of the i6th of 
April, 1782 : 

" Whoever has individually experienced the sensation of 
ardent expectation, trembling suspense, burning impatience, 
and determined resolution, and can suppose all those sensa- 
tions possessing an entire nation, may form some, but yet an 
inadequate idea of the feelings of the Irish people on the i6th 
of April, 1782, which was the day peremptorily fixed by Mr, 
Grattan for moving that declaration of rights, which was the 
proximate cause of Ireland's short-lived prosperity, and the 
remote one of its final overthrow and annexation. So high 



498 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

were the minds of the pubHc wound up on the eve of that 
momentous day, that the volunteers flew to their arms with- 
out having an enemy to encounter, and, almost breathless with 
impatience, inquired eagerly after the probability of events, 
which the close of the same day must certainly determine. 

" Early on the i6th of April, 1782, the great street before 
the house of parliament was thronged by a multitude of peo- 
ple, of every class and description, though many hours must 
elapse before the house would meet, or business be proceeded 
with. The parliament had been summoned to attend this- 
momentous question by an unusual and special call of the house, 
and by four o'clock a full meeting took place. The body of 
the House of Commons was crowded with its members, a 
great proportion of the peerage attended as auditors, and the 
capacious gallery which surrounded the interior magnificent 
dome of the house contained above four hundred ladies of the 
highest distinction, who partook of the same national fire 
which had enlightened their parents, their husbands, and their 
relatives, and by the sympathetic influence of their presence 
and zeal they communicated an instinctive chivalrous impulse 
to eloquence and patriotism. 

" A calm but deep solicitude was apparent on almost every 
countenance when Mr. Grattan entered, accompanied by Mr. 
Brownlow and several others, the determined and important 
advocates for the declaration of Irish independence. Mr. 
Grattan's preceding exertions and anxiety had manifestly 
injured his health; his tottering frame seemed barely sufficient 
to sustain his laboring mind, replete with the unprecedented 
importance and responsibility of the measure he was about to 
bring forward."* 

" For a short time," continues Sir Jonah Barrington, " a 
profound silence ensued." It was expected that Grattan would 
rise; but, to the mortification and confusion of the government 
leaders, he kept his seat, putting on them the responsibility 
of opening the proceedings and of fixing their attitude before 
being allowed to " feel their wav," as they greatly desired to 

* Sir Jona.'h'BaTTihgion^s /^ise afidyii//o/ f/ie /fis/i A^a/hm. 



THE STORY OP IRELAND. 499 

do. The secretary of state, resigning- himself to the worsts 
thought it better to declare for concession. He announced 
chat " his majesty, being concerned to find that discontents 
and jealousies were prevailing amongst his loyal subjects in 
Ireland upon matters of great weight and importance, recom- 
mended to the house to take- the same mto their most serious 
consideration, in order to effect such a final adjustment as 
might give satisfaction to both kingdoms." The secretary, 
however, added, that he was not officially authorized to say 
more than to deliver the message. 

After an interval of embarrassing silence and curiosity, Mr. 
George Ponsonby rose, and moved a weak and procrastinat- 
ing reply, " thanking the king for his goodness and condescen- 
sion." But it would not do. The national determination 
was not to be trifled with. At length, after a solemn pause, 
Grattan, slowly rising from his seat, commenced " the mo:?t 
luminous, brilliant, and effective oration ever delivered in the 
Irish parliament ; " a speech which, " rising in its progress, ap- 
plied equally to the sense, the pride, and the spirit of the 
nation." " Amidst an universal cry of approbation," he con- 
cluded by moving as an amendment to Mr. Ponsonby's incon- 
sequential motion, the ever-memorable declaration of Irish 

INDEPENDENCE : 

*' That the kingdom of Ireland is a distinct kingdom, with a parh'ament of her own, 
the sole legislature thereof; that there is no body of men competent to make laws to 
biiid the nation, but the king, lords, and commons of Ireland, nor any parliament 
which hath any authority or power of any sort whatever in this country, save only 
the parliament of Ireland ; to assure his majesty, that we humbly conceive that in this 
right the very essence of our liberty exists, a right which we, on the part of all the 
people of Ireland, do claim as their birthright, and which we cannot yield but with 
our lives." 

Grattan's amendment was seconded by Mr. Brownlow, 
member for Armagh county, in point of wealth and reputa- 
tion one of the first country gentlemen in Ireland. " The 
whole house," says Harrington, " in a moment caught the 
patriotic flame. All further debate ceased : the sneaker put 
the question on Mr. Grattan's amendment ; an nnanimons shout 
of * aye' burst from every quarter of the house. He repeated 



500 THE STOBY OF IKELAND. 

the question. The applause redoubled. A moment of tumul- 
tuous exultation followed : and alter centuries of oppression, 
Ireland at length declared herself an independent nation. 

Word of the event no sooner reached the impatient crowd 
outside the building, than a cry of joy and triumph burst forth 
all over the city. ■• " The news soon spread through the nation, 
and the rejoicings of the people were beyond all description ; 
every city, town, and village in Ireland blazed with the em- 
blems of exultation, and resounded with the shouts of tri- 
umph." 

" Never was a new nation more nobly heralded into exist- 
ence ! Never was an old nation more reverently and tenderly 
lifted up and restored ! The houses adjourned to give England 
time to consider Ireland's ultimatum. Within a month it was 
accepted by the new British administration." The " visionary " 
and "impracticable" idea had become an accomplished fact. 
The " splendid phantom " had become a glorious reality. 
The heptarchy had not been restored ; yet Ireland had won 
complete legislative independence ! 



THE STORY OF IRELA.ND. 501 



LXXVIII. — WHAT NATIONAL INDEPENDENCE ACCOMPLISHED 
FOR IRELAND. HOW ENGLAND ONCE MORE BROKE FAITH 
WITH IRELAND, AND REPAID GENEROUS TRUST WITH BASE 
BETRAYAL. 

o|| F mankind needed at so late a period of the world's age 
)| as the close of the eighteenth century, any experiment 
^ to prove the substantial benefits of national freedom, 
"^ the progress of Ireland during this brief but bright and 
glorious era of independence would suffice to establish the 
fact for ever. Happily, when referring to the events of that 
time, we treat of no remote period of history. Living men 
remem'ber it. Irishmen of this generation have listened at their 
parent's knee to reminiscences and relations, facts and par- 
ticulars, that mark it as the day of Ireland's true, real, 
and visible prosperity. Statistics — invulnerable — irrefragable 
— full of eloquence — momentous in their meaning — attest the 
same truth. Manufacture, trade, and commerce developed 
to a greater extent in Un years of native rule than they 
had done in the previous hundred under English mastery, 
and in a much greater proportion than they have developed 
in the sixty-seven years of subsequent " union " legislation. 

Ireland's freedom and prosperity did not mean England's 
injury, nor England's pause in the like onward march. The 
history of the period we are now treating of disposes of more 
than one fallacy used by the advocates of Irish national ex- 
tinction. It proves that Ireland's right does not involve 
England's wrong. Never before were the two countries more 
free from jealousy, rivalry, or hostility. Never before was 
discontent banished from Ireland — as never since has disaflfec- 
tion been absent. 

Lust of dominion — sheer covetousness of mastery — has in 
all ages been the source and origin of the most wanton inva- 
sions and most wicked subjugations. Not even amongst 



502 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

Englishmen themselves does any writer now hesitate to 
characterize as nefarious, treacherous, and abominable, the 
scheme b}- which England invaded and overthrew in iSoo 
the happily established freedom of Ireland.* 

Scarcely had the rusty chain of '* Poynings' Act " been 
wrenched off, than the English minister began to consider 
how a stronger one might be forged and bound on the liber- 
ated Irish nation I The king's voice characterized the happy 
and amicable settlement just concluded as ''finals The Brit- 
ish minister and the British parliament in the most solemn 
manner declared the same ; and surely nothing but morbid 
suspiciousness could discover fair ground for crediting that 
England would play Ireland false upon that promise — that 
she would seize the earliest opportunity of not merely break- 
ing that " final adjustment," and shakling the Irish parliament 
anew, but of destroying it utterly and forever ! Yet there 
were men amongst the Irish patriots who did not hesitate to 
express such suspicions at the moment, and foremost amongst 
these was Flood. He pressed for further and more specific 
and formal renunciation, Grattan, on the other hand, vio- 
lently resisted this, as an ungenerous effort to put England "on 
her knees" — to humiliate her — to plainly treat her as a sus- 
pected blackleg. On this issue the two patriot leaders vio- 
lently, acrimoniously, and irreconcilably quarreled ; Flood 
and his following contending that England would surely be- 
tray Ireland on the "final adjustment," and Grattan, with the 
bulk of the national party, vehemently refusing to put such 
ungenerous insult and indignity on England as to suppose her 
capable of such conduct I 

Alas! At that very nioiiicnt — as the now published corres- 



* English readers as yet uninformed on the subject, and disposed to receive with 
hesitation the statements of Irish writers as to the infamous means resorted to by the 
English government to overthrow the Irish Constitution in l8oo, may be referred to 
the Castlereagh Papers and the Cornwallis Correspondence— the private letters of the 
chief agents in the scheme. Mr. Massey, chairman of committees in the English 
House of Commons, published, a few years ago, a volume which exposes and charac- 
terizes that nefarious transaction in language which might be deemed too strong if 
used by an Irishman feeling the wrong and suffering from it. 



THE STOEY OF lEELAND. 503 

pondence of the English statesmen engaged in the transaction 
discloses — the British ministers were discussing, devising, and 
directing preparations for accomplishing, by the most iniquit- 
ous means, that crime against Ireland of which Grattan con- 
sidered it ungenerous and wicked to express even a suspi- 
cion ! 

It was with good reason the national party, soon after the 
accomplishment of legislative independence, directed their 
energies to the question of parliamentary reform. The legis- 
lative body, which in a moment of great public excitement 
and enthusiasm, had been made for a moment to reflect cor- 
rectly the national will, was after all returned by an antique 
electoral system, which was a gross farce on representation. 
Boroughs and seats were at the time openly and literally 
owned by particular persons or families, the voting " constitu- 
ency " sometimes being not more than a dozen in number. 
As a matter of fact, less than a hundred persons owned SQdits 
or boroughs capable of making a majority in the commons. 

The patriot party naturally and wisely judged that with such 
a parliament the retention of freedom would be precarious, 
and the representation of the national will uncertain ; so the 
question of parliamentary reform came to be agitated with a 
vehemence second only to that of parliamentary independence 
in the then recent campaign. By this time, however, the 
British minister had equally detected, that while with such a 
parliament he might accomplish his treacherous designs, with 
a parliament really amenable to the people, he never could. 
Concealing the real motive and the remote object, the gov- 
ernment, through its myriad devious channels of influence, as 
well as openly and avowedly, resisted the demand for reform. 
Apart from the government, the " vested interests " of the 
existing system were able to make a protracted fight. Ere 
long both these sections were leagued together, and they 
hopelessly outnumbered the popular party. 

The government now began to feel itself strong, and it ac- 
cordingly commenced the work of deliberately destroying 
the parliament of Ireland. Those whom it could influence, 
purchase, or corrupt, were one by one removed or bought 



504 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

in market overt. Those who were true to honor and duty, 
it insolently threatened, insulted, and assailed. The popular 
demands were treated with defiance and contumely by the 
minister and his co-conspirators. Soon a malign opportunity 
presented itself for putting Ireland utterly, hopelessly, help- 
lessly into their hands — the sheep committed to the grasp of 
the wolf for security and protection ! 



LXXIX.— HOW THE ENGLISH MINISTER SAW HIS ADVANTAGE IN 
PROVOKING IRELAND INTO AN ARMED STRUGGLE ; AND HOW 
HEARTLESSLY HE LABORED TO THAT END. 

HILE these events were transpiring in Ireland the 
French revolution had burst forth, shaking the whole 
fabric of European society, rending old systems with 
the terrible force of a newly-appeared explosive povv- 
Everywhere its effects were felt. Everywhere men 
were struck with wonder. Everywhere the subtle intoxi- 
cation of the revolutionary doctrines symbolized by the 
terrible drapeau rouge, fired the blood of political enthusi- 
asts. Some hailed the birth of the French republic as the 
avatar of freedom ; * others saw in it the incarnation of an- 



* The sentiments evoked in the breasts of most Irish patriots by the first outburst 
and subsequent proceedings of the French revolution— enthusiasm, joy, and hope, 
followed by grief, horror, and despair— have been truthfully expressed by Moore in 
the following matchless verses : — 

' T is gone and for ever — the light we saw breaking 

Like heaven's first dawn o'er the sleep of the dead ; 
When man from the slumber of ages awaking, 

Looked upward and blessed the pure ray ere it fled. 
'T Ls gone — and the gleam it has left of its burning 
But deepens the long night of bondage and mourning 
That dark o'er the kingdoms of earth is returning, 
But darkest of all, hapless Erin, o'er thee. 

How high was thy hope when those glories were darting 
Around thee through all the gross clouds of the world ; 

When Truth, from her fetters indignantly starting, 
At once like a sunburst her banner unfurled ! 




THE STORY OF IRELAND. 505 

archy and infidelity ; an organized war upon social order and 
upon the Christian religion. It instantly arrayed all Europe 
in two fiercely hostile camps. Each side spoke and acted with 
a passionate energy. Old parties and schools of political 
thought were broken up ; old friendships and alliances were 
sundered forever, on the question whether the French revo- 
lution was an emanation from hell or an inspiration from 
heaven. 

Ireland so peculiarly circumstanced, could not fail to be 
powerfully moved by the great drama unfolded before the 
world in Paris. Side by side with the march of events there, 
from 1789 to 1795, was the revelation of England's treason 
against the " final adjustment " of Irish national rights, and 
the exasperating demeanor, language, and action of the gov- 
ernment in its now avowed determination to conquer right 
by might. 

Towards the close of 1791, Theobald Wolfe Tone — a young 
Protestant barrister of great ability, who had devoted him- 
self to the service of the Catholics in their efforts for eman- 
cipation — visiting Belfast (then the centre and citadel of dem- 
ocratic and liberal, if not indeed of republican opinions),* met 
there some of the popular leaders, They had marked the 
treacherous conduct of the government, and they saw no hope 
for averting the ruin designed for Ireland, save in a union of 
all Irishmen, irrespective of creed or class, in an open, legal, 
and constutional organization for the accomplishment of 
parliamentary reform Viwdi Catholic emancipation. Such an or- 

Oh ! never shall earth see a moment so splendid ; 
Then— then— had one Hymn of Deliverance blended 
The tongues of all nations, how sweet had ascended 
The first note of liberty, Erin, from thee ! 

But shame on those tyrants who envied the blessing, 

And shame on the light race unworthy its good. 
Who at Death's reeking altar, like furies caressing 

The young hope of Freedom, baptized it in blood. 
Then vanished for ever that fair sunny vision 
Which spite of the slavish, the cold heart's derision, 
Shall long be remembered — pure, bright, and elysian 

As first it arose, my lost Erin, on thee ! 

* In July of that year (1791), the French revolution was celebrated with military 
pomp in Belfast by the armed volunteers and townspeople. 



606 THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 

ganization they forthwith established. Tone, on his return 
to Dublin, pushed its operations there, and it soon embraced 
every man of note on the people's side in politics. The asso- 
ciation thus established was called the Society of United 
Irishmen. For some time it pursued its labors zealously, and, 
as its first principles exacted, openly, legall}^ and constitu- 
tionally, towards the attainment of its most legitimate objects. 
But the government was winning against the United Irish 
leaders by strides — pandering to the grossest passions and 
vices of the oligarchical party, now sedulously inflamed 
against all popular opinions by the mad-dog cry of " French 
principles." One by one the popular leaders tired in the hope- 
less struggle — were overpowered by despair of resisting the 
gross and naked tyranny of the government, which was abso- 
lutely and designedly pushing them out of constitutional ac- 
tion. Some of them retired from public life. Others of them 
yielded to the conviction that outside the constitution, if not 
within it, the struggle might be fought, and the United Irish- 
men gradually became an oath-bound secret society. 

From the first hour when an armed struggle came to be 
contemplated by the United Irish leaders, they very naturally 
fixed their hopes on France : and envoys passed and repassed 
between them and the French Directory. The government 
had early knowledge of the fact. It was to them news the 
most welcome. Indeed they so clearly saw their advantage 
— their certain success — in arraying on their side all who 
feared a Jacobin revolution, and in identifying in the minds 
of the property classes anti-Englishism w^ith revolution and 
infidelity, that their greatest anxiety was to make sure that 
the United Irishmen would go far enough and deep enough 
into the scheme. And the government left nothing undone 
to secure that result. 

Meanwhile, the society in its new character extended itself 
with marvellous success. Its organization was ingenious, and 
of course its leaders believed it to be " spy-proof," Nearly 
half a inillion of earnest and determined men were enrolled, 
and a considerable portion of them were armed either with 
pikes or muskets. Indeed for a moment it seemed not un- 



THE STOBY OF IKELAND. 507 

likely that the government conspirators might find they had 
over-shot their own purpose, and had allowed the organiza- 
tion to develop too far. Up to 1796 they never took into cal- 
culation as a serious probability that France would really cast 
her powerful aid into the scale with Ireland. In the instant 
when England, startled beyond conception, was awakened to 
her error on this point by the appearance in Bantry Bay, m 
December, 1796, of a formidable expedition under Hoche*— 
a sense of danger and alarm possessed her, and it was decided 
to burst up the insurrectionary design — to /^r^^ it into conflict 
at once ; — the peril now being that the armed and organized 
Irish might " bide their time." 

To drive the Irish into the field — to goad them into action 
in the hour of England's choice, not their own — was the 
problem. Its accomplishment was arrived at by proceedings 
over which the historical writer or student shudders in hor- 
ror. Early in 1796, an Insurrection Act was passed, making 
the administration of an oath identical with or similar to 
that of the United Irishmen punishable with death ! An 
army of fifty thousand men, subsequently increased to eighty 
thousand, was let loose upon the country on the atrocious 
system of "free quarters." Irresponsible power was con- 
ferred on the military officers and local magistracy. The 
yeomanry, mainly composed of Orangemen, were quartered 
on the most Catholic districts, while the Irish militia regi- 
ments suspected of any sympathy with the population were 
shipped off" to England in exchange for foreign troops. " The 
military tribunals did not wait for the idle formalities of the 
civil courts. Soldiers and civilians, yeomen and townsmen, 
against whom the informer pointed his finger, were taken out 
and summarily executed. Ghastly forms hung upon the 
thickset gibbets, not only in the market places of the coun- 
try towns and before the public prisons, but on all the bridges 
of the metropolis. The horrid torture of picketing, and the 

* This expedition had been obtained from the French Directory by the energy and 
perseverance of Wolfe Tone, who had been obliged to fly from Ireland. It was dis- 
persed by a storm— a hurricane— as it lay in Bantry Bay waiting the arrival of the 
commander's-ship. This storm saved the English power in Ireland. 



508 THE STOBY OF IRELAND. 

blood-stained lash, were constantly resorted to, to extort 
accusations or confessions. " * Lord Holland gives us a like 
picture of " burning cottages, tortured backs, and frequent 
executions." " The fact is incontrovertible," he says, "that 
the people of Ireland were driven to resistance (which, pos- 
sibly, they meditated before) by the free quarters and excesses 
ot the soldiery, which were such as are not permitted in civ- 
ilized warfare even in an enemy's country. Dr. Dickson, 
Lord Bishop of Down, assured me that he had seen families 
returning peaceably from Mass, assailed without provocation 
by drunken troops and yeomanry, and their wives and 
daughters exposed to ever}' species of indignity, brutality, 
and outrage, from which neither his (the bishop's) remon- 
strances, nor those of other Protestant gentlemen, could rescue 
them."t 

No wonder the gallant and humane Sir John Moore — 
appalled at the infamies of that lustful and brutal soldiery, 
and unable to repress his sympath)- with the helpless Irish 
peasantry — should have exclaimed, '' If I ivcre an Irishman, 
I zvould be a rebel ! " 

♦M'Gee. 
\ Lord Holland, Memoirs of the Whig Party. 



-e^l 



THE STOKY OF IKELAND. 509 




LXXX. — HOW THE BRITISH MINISTER FORCED ON THE RISING. 
THE FATE OF THE BRAVE LORD EDWARD. — HOW THE BRO- 
THERS SHEARES DIED HAND-IN-HAND. — THE RISING OF 
NINETY-EIGHT. 

HILE the government, by such frightful agencies, was 
trying to force an insurrection, the United Irish lead- 
ers were straining every energy to keep the people 
in restraint until such time as they could strike and 
not strike in vain. But in this dreadful game the gov- 
ernment was sure to win eventually. By a decisive blow 
at the Society, on the 12th March, 1798, it compelled the 
United Irishmen to take the field forthwith or perish. This 
was the seizure, on that day, in one swoop, of the Supreme 
Council or Directory, with all its returns, lists, and muster- 
rolls, while sitting in deliberation, at the house of Mr. Oliver 
Bond (one of the council) in Bridge Street, Dublin. 

This terrible stroke was almost irreparable. One man, how- 
ever, escaped by the accident of not having attended, as he 
intended, that day's council meeting ; and him of all others 
the government desired to capture. This was Lord Edward 
Fitzgerald, son of the Duke of Leinster, commander-in-chief 
of the United Irish military organization. 

Of all the men who have given their lives in the fatal 
struggle against the English yoke, not one is more endeared 
to Irish popular affection than " Lord Edward. " While he 
lived he was idolized ; and with truth it may be said his mem- 
cry is embalmed in a nation's tears. He had every quality 
calculated to win the hearts of a people like the Irish. His 
birth, his rank, his noble lineage, his princely bearing, his 
handsome person, his frank and chivalrous manner, his gen- 
erous, warm-hearted nature, his undaunted courage, and, 
above all, his ardent patriotism, combined to render Lord 



510 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

Edward the beau ideal of a popular leader. " He was, " says 
a writer whose labors to assure the fame and vindicate in 
history the gallant band of whom the youthful Geraldine was 
amongst the foremost, should never be forgotten by Irish- 
men — " as playful and humble as a child, as mild and timid as 
a lady, and, when necessary, as brave as a lion. " * 

Such was the man on whose head a price of one thousand 
pounds was now set by the government. On the arrest of 
the directory at Bond's, three men of position and ability 
stepped forward into the vacant council-seats ; the brothers 
John and Henry Sheares, and Doctor Lawless; and upon 
these and Lord Edward now devolved the responsibility of 
controlling the organization. Lord Edward insisted on an 
immediate rising. He saw that by the aid of spies and in- 
formers the government was in possession of their inmost se- 
crets, and that very day would be ruining their organization. 
To wait further for aid from France would be utter destruc- 
tion to all their plans. Accordingly, it was decided that on 
the 23d May next following, the standard of insurrection 
should be unfurled, and Ireland appeal to the ultima ratio ot 
oppressed nations. 

The government heard this, through their spies, with a 
sense of relief and of diabolical satisfaction. Efforts to secure 
Lord Edward were now pursued with desperate activity ; 
yet he remained in Dublin eluding his enemies for eight weeks 
after the arrests at Bond's, guarded, convo3'ed, sheltered by 
the people with a devotion for which history has scarcely a 
parallel. The 23d of May was approaching fast, and still 
Lord Edward was at large. The Castle conspirators began 
to fear that after all their machinations they might find them- 
selves face to face with an Irish Washington. Within a few 
days, however, of the ominous 23d, treason gave them the 
victory, and placed the noble Geraldine within their grasp. 

On the night of the i8th May, he was brought to the house 
of a Mr. Nicholas Murphy, a feather merchant of 153 Thomas 
Street. He had been secreted in this same house before, but 

* Dr. R. R. Madden, Lives and Times of the United Irishmen. 



THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 511 

had been removed, as it was deemed essential to change his 
place of concealment very frequently. After spending some 
short time at each of several other places in the interval, he was, 
on the night already mentioned, a second time brought to Mr. 
Murphy's house. On the evening of the next day, Lord 
Edward, after dining with his host, retired to his chamber, in- 
tending to lie down for a while, being suffering from a cold. 
Mr. Murphy followed him up stairs to speak to him about 
something, when the noise of feet softly but quickly springing 
•up the stair caught his ear, and instantly the door was thrown 
open and a police magistrate named Swan, accompanied by a 
soldier, rushed into the room. Lord Edward was lying on 
the bed with his coat and vest off. He sprang from the bed 
snatching from under the pillow a dagger. Swan thrust his 
right hand into an inside breast pocket where his pistols were ; 
but Lord Edward divining the object, struck at that spot, and 
sent his dagger through Swan's hand, penetrating his body. 
Swan shouted that he was" murdered ;" nevertheless, with 
his wounded hand he managed to draw his pistol and fire 
at Lord Edward. The shot missed ; but at this moment an- 
other of the police party, named Ryan (a yeomanry captam) 
rushed in, armed with a drawn cane-sword, and Major Sirr 
with half a-dozen soldiers, hurried up stairs. Ryan flung 
himself on Lord Edward, and tried to hold him down on the 
bed, but he could not, and the pair, locked in deadly combat, 
rolled upon the floor. Lord Edward received some deadly 
thrusts from Ryan's sword, but he succeeded in freeing his 
right hand, and quick as he could draw his arm, plunged the 
dagger again and again into Ryan's body. The yeomanry 
captain, though wounded mortally all over, was still struggling 
with Lord Edward on the floor when Sirr and the soldiers ar- 
rived. Sirr, pistol in hand, feared to grapple with the enrag- 
ed Geraldine ; but, watching his opportunity, took deliberate 
aim at him and fired. The ball struck Lord Edward in the 
right shoulder ; the dagger fell from his grasp, and Sirr and 
the soldiers flung themselves upon him in a body. Still it re- 
quired their utmost efforts to hold him down, some of them 
gtitUbing and hackins: at him with shortened swords and club- 



0l2 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

bed pistols, while others held him fast. At length, weakened 
from wounds and loss of blood, he fainted. They took a 
sheet ofFthe bed and rolled the almost inanimate body in it, 
and dragged their victim down the narrow stair. The floor 
of the room, all over blood, an eye-witness says, resembled a 
slaughter house, and even the walls were dashed with gore. 

Meantime a crowd had assembled in the street, attracted 
by the presence of the soldiers around the house. The instant 
it became known that it was Lord Edward that had been 
captured, the people flung themselves on the military, and 
after a desperate struggle had overpowered them but for the 
arrival of a large body of cavalry, who eventually succeeded 
in bringing off Lord Edward to the castle. 

Here his wounds were dressed. On beingtold by the doc- 
tor that they were not likely to prove fatal, he exclaimed : 
" I am sorry to hear it." He was removed to Newgate, none 
of his friends being allowed access to him until the 3d of 
June, when they were told tJiat he zvas dying ! His aunt, Lady 
Louisa Connolly, and his brother, Lord Henry Fitzgerald, 
were then permitted to see him. They found him delirious. 
As he lay on his fever pallet in the dark and narrow cell of that 
accursed bastile, his ears were dinned with horrid noises that 
his brutal jailors took care to tell him were caused by the 
workmen erecting barriers around the gallows fixed for a 
forthcoming execution. 

Next day 4th June, 1798, he expired. As he died uncon- 
victed, his body was given up to his friends, but only on con- 
dition that no funeral would be attempted. In the dead of 
night they conveyed the last remains of the noble Lord Ed- 
ward from Newgate to the Kildare vault beneath St. Wer- 
burgh's Protestant Church, Dublin, where they now repose. 

A few days after Lord Edward's capture — on Monday, 21st 
May — the brothers Sheares were arrested, one at his residence 
in lower Baggot Street, the other at a friend's house in French 
Street, having been betrayed by a government agent named 
Armstrong, who had wormed himself into their friendship 
and confidence for the purpose of effecting their ruin. On 
the evening previous to their capture he was a guest in the 




CAITUKE OF LORD EDWARD. 



See pages sn, 512. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 515 

bosom of their family, sitting at their fireside, fondling on his 
knee the infant child of one of the victims, whose blood was 
to drip from the scaffold in Green Street, a few weeks later, 
through his unequalled infamy. 

On the 1 2th July, John and Henry Sheares were brought 
to trial, and the fiend Armstrong appeared on the witness table 
and swore away their lives. Two days afterwards the mar- 
tyr-brothers were executed, side by side. Indeed they fell 
through the drop Jiand clasped in handy having, as they stood 
blindfolded on the trap, in the brief moment before the bolt 
was drawn, by an instinct of holy affection strong in death 
each one reached out as best he could his pinioned hand, and 
grasped that of his brother ! 

The capture of Lord Edward, so quickly followed by the 
arrest of the brothers Sheares, was a deathblow to the insur- 
rection, as far as concerned any preconcerted movement. On 
the night of the appointed day an abortive rising took place 
in the neighborhood of the metropolis. On the same day 
Kildare, Lord Edward's county, took the field, and against 
hopeless disadvantages made a gallant stand. Meath also 
kept its troth, as did Down and Antrim in the north keep 
theirs, but only to a like bloody sacrifice, and in a few days it 
seemed that all was over. But a county almost free from 
complicity in the organization, a county in which no one on 
either side had apprehended revolt, was now about to show 
the world what Irish peasants, driven to desperation defending 
their homes and altars, could dare and do. Wexford, heroic 
and glorious Wexford, was now about to show that even one 
county of Ireland's thirty-two could engage more than half 
the available army of England ! 

Wexford rose, not in obedience to any call from the united 
Irish organization, but purely and solely from the instinct of 
self-preservation. Although there was probably no district 
in Ireland so free from participation in the designs of that 
association (there were scarcely two hundred enrolled United 
Irishmen amongst its entire population), all the horrors of 
free-quarters and martial law had been let loose on the count}^ 
Atrocities that sicken the heart in their contemplation, filled 



516 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

with terror the homes of that peaceful and inofifensive people. 
The midnight skies were reddened with the flames of burn- 
ing cottages, and the glens resounded with shrieks of agony, 
vengence, and despair. Homes desolated, female virtue made 
the victim of crimes that cannot be named, the gibbet and 
the triangle erected in, every hamlet, and finally, the temples 
of God desecrated and given to the torch, left manhood in 
Wexford no choice but that which to its eternal honor it 
made. 

Well and bravely Wexford fought that fight. It was the 
wild rush to arms of a tortured peasantry, unprepared, un- 
organized, unarmed. Yet no Irishman has need to " hang his 
head for shame " when men speak of gallant Wexford in ninety- 
eight. Battle for battle, the men of that county beat the best 
armies of the king, until their relative forces became out of 
all proportion. Neither Tell in Switzerland nor Hofer in the 
Tyrol earned immortality more gloriously than that noble 
band of " the sister-counties," Wexford and Wicklow — 
Beauchamp Bagenal Harvey ; Colclough of Tintern Abbey ; 
Fitzgerald of Newpark ; Miles Byrne, and Edmund Kyan, in 
the one ; and the patriot brothers Byrne of Ballymanus, with 
Holt, Hackett, and "brave Michael Dwyer," in the other. 
And, as he who studies the history of this country will note, 
in all its struggles for seven hundred years, the priests of Ire- 
land, ever fearless to brave the anger of the maddened people, 
restraining them while conflict might be avoided, were ever 
readiest to die, 

Whether on the scaffold high, 
Or in the battle's van — 

side by side with the people, when driven to the last resort. 
Fathers John and Michael Murphy, Father Roche, and Father 
Clinch, are names that should ever be remembered by Irishmen 
when tempters whisper that the voice of the Catholic pastor, 
raised in warning or restraint, is the utterance of one who 
cannot feel for, who would not die for, the flock he desires to 
save. 

Just as the short and bloody struggle had terminated, there 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 517 

appeared in Killala Bay the first instalment of that aid from 
France for which the United Irish leaders had desire'd to wait! 
If they could have resisted the government endeavors to 
precipitate the rising for barely three or four months longer, 
it is impossible to say how the movement might have resulted. 
On the 22d August, the French general Humbert, landed at 
Killala with barely one thousand men. Miserable as was this 
force, a few months earlier it would have counted for twenty 
thousand ; but now, ten thousand, much less ten hundred, 
would not avail. They came too late, or the rising was too 
soon. Nevertheless, with this handful of men, joined by a few 
thousand hardy Mayo peasantry, Humbert literally chased 
the government troops before him across the island ; and it 
was not until the viceroy himself, Lord Cornwallis, hurrying 
from Dublin, concentrated around the Franco-Irish army of 
three thousand men a force of nearly tJiirty tJioiisand, enveloping 
them on all sides — and of course, hopelessly overpowering 
them — that the victorious march of the daring Frenchmen 
was arrested by the complete defeat and capitulation of 
Ballinamuck, on the morning of the 8th September, 1798. 

It was the last battle of the insurrection. Within a fort- 
night subsequently two further and smaller expeditions from 
France reached the northern coast ; one accompanied by 
Napper Tandy (an exiled United Irish leader), and another 
under Admiral Bompart with Wolfe Tone on board. The lat- 
ter one was attacked by a powerful English fleet and captured. 
Tone, the heroic and indefatigable, was sent in irons to Dub- 
lin, where he was tried by court-martial and sentenced to be 
hung. He pleaded hard for a soldier's death ; but his judges 
were inexorable. It turned out however, that his trial and 
conviction were utterly illegal, as martial law had ceased, and 
the ordinary tribunals were sitting at the time. At the in- 
stance of the illustrious Irish advocate, orator, and patriot, 
Curran, an order was obtained against the military au- 
thorities to deliver Tone over to the civil court. The order 
was at first resisted, but ultimately the official of the court 
was informed that the prisoner" had committed suicide." He 
died a few days after of a wound in his throat, possibly inflict- 



518 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

ed by himself, to avert the indignit}' he so earnestly deprecat- 
ed ; but not improbably, as popular conviction has it, the work 
of a murderous hand ; for fouler deeds were done in the gov- 
ernment dungeons in " those dark and evil days." 

The insurrection of '98 was the first rebellion on the part of 
the Irish people for hundreds of years. The revolt of the 
Puritan colonists in 1641, and that of their descendants, the 
Protestant rebels of 1690, were not Irisli movements in any 
sense of the phrase. It was onl}' after 1605 that the English 
government could, by any code of moral obligations whatever, 
be held entitled to the obedience of the Irish people, whose 
struggles previous to that date were lawful efforts in defence of 
their native and legitimate rulers against the English invaders. 
And never, subsequently to 1605, up to the period at which 
we have now arrived — 1798 — did the Irish people revolt or 
rebel against the new sovereignty. On the contrary, in 1641, 
they fought for the king, and lost heavily by their loyalty. 
In 1690 once more they fought for the king, and again they 
paid a terrible penalty for their fidelity to the sovereign. In 
plain truth, the Irish are, of all peoples, the most disposed 
to respect constituted authority where it is entitled to respect, 
and the most ready to repay even the shortest measure of 
justice on the part of the sovereign, by generous, faithful, 
enduring, and self-sacrificing loyalty. They are a law-abiding 
people — or rather a justice-loving people ; for their contempt 
for law becomes extreme when it is made the antithesis of 
justice. Nothing but terrible provocation could have driven 
such a people into rebellion. 

Rebellion against just and lawful government is a great 
crime. Rebellion against constituted government of any 
character is a terrible responsibility. There are circumstances 
under which resistance is a dutv, and where, it may be said, 
the crime would be rather in slavish or cowardly acquiescence; 
but awful is the accountability of him who undertakes to judge 
that the measure of justification is full, that the moral duty of 
resistance is established by the circumstances, and that, not 
merely in figure of speech, but in solemn reality, no other 
resort remains. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 519 

But, however all this may be, the public code of which it 
is a part, rightly recognizes a great distinction in favor of a 
people who are driven into the field to defend their homes and 
altars against brutal military violence. Such were the heroic 
men of Wexford ; and of the United Irishmen it is to be re- 
membered that if they pursued an object unquestionably good 
and virtuous in itself, outside, not within, the constitution, it 
was not by their own choice. They were no apostles of 
anarchy, no lovers of revolution, no " rebels for a theory." 
They were not men who decried or opposed the more peace- 
ful action of moral force agencies. They would have preferred 
them, had a choice fairly been left them. There was undoubt- 
edly a French Jacobinical spirit tingeing the views of many of 
the Dublin and Ulster leaders towards the close, but under all 
the circumstances this was inevitable. With scarcely an ex- 
ception, they were men of exemplary moral characters, 
high social position, of unsullied integrity, of brilliant intel- 
lect, of pure and lofty patriotism. They were men who 
honestly desired and endeavored, while it was permitted to 
them so to do, by lawful and constitutional means, to save and 
serve their country, but who, by an infamous conspiracy of 
the government, were deliberately forced upon resistance as a 
patriot's duty, and who at the last sealed with their blood 
their devotion to Ireland. 

" More than twenty years have passed away," says Lord 
Holland ; " many of my political opinions are softened, my 
predilections for some men weakened, my prejudices against 
others removed ; but my approbation of Lord Edward Fitz- 
gerald's actions remains unaltered and unshaken. His country 
was bleeding under one of the hardest tyrannies that our 
times have witnessed. He who thinks that a man can be even 
excused in such circumstances by any other consideration than 
that of despair from opposing by force a pretended govern- 
ment, seems to me to sanction a principle which would insure 
impunity to the greatest of all human delinquents, or at least 
to those who produce the greatest misery among mankind."* 



Lord Holland, Memoirs of the Whig Party. 




520 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

LXXXT. — HOW THE GOVERNMENT CONSPIRACY NOW ACHIEVED 
ITS PURPOSE. HOW THE PARLIAMENT OF IRELAND WAS 
EXTINGUISHED. 



ORRORS," says Sir Jonah Barrington, " were every- 
where recommenced, executions were multiphed. The 
government had now achieved the very cHmax of 
^ public terror on which they had so much counted for 
inducing Ireland to throw herself into the arms of the 
'protecting' country. Mr. Pitt conceived that the moment 
had arrived to try the effect of his previous measures, to 
promote a legislative union, and annihilate the parliament of 
Ireland." 

"On the 22d January, 1799, the Irish legislature met 
under circumstances of great interest and excitement. The 
city of Dublin, always keenly alive to its metropolitan inter- 
ests, sent its eager thousands by every avenue towards 
College Green. The viceroy went down to the houses with 
a more than ordinary guard, and being seated on the throne 
in the House of Lords, the Commons were summoned to the 
bar. The viceregal speech congratulated both houses on 
the suppression of the late rebellion, on the defeat of Bom- 
part's squadron, and the recent French victories of Lord 
Nelson ; then came, amid profound expectation, this conclud- 
ing sentence : — 

" 'The unremitting industry,' said the viceroy, 'with which our enemies persevere 
in their avowed design of endeavoring to effect a separation of this kingdom from 
Great Britain must have engaged your attention, and his Majesty commands me to 
express his anxious hope that this consideration, joined to the sentiment of mutual 
affection and common interest, may dispose the parhaments in both kingdoms to 
provide the most effectual means of maintaining and improving a connection 
essential to their common security, and of consolidating, as far as possible, into one 
firm and lasting fabric, the strength, the power, and the resources of the British 
empire.' 

" On the paragraph of the address reechoing this sentiment 
(which was carried by a large majority in f/ie lords), a debate 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 521 

ensued in the commons which lasted till one o'clock of the 
following day, about twenty consecutive hours. The galler- 
ies and lobbies were crowded all night by the first people of 
the city, of both sexes, and when the division was being taken 
the most intense anxiety was manifested within doors and 
without."* 

" One hundred and eleven members had declared against 
the Union, and when the doors were opened, one hundred 
and five were discovered to be the total number of the 
minister's adherents. The gratification of the anti-Unionists 
was unbounded ; and as they walked deliberately in, one by 
one, to be counted, the eager spectators, ladies as well as 
gentlemen, leaning over the galleries ignorant of the result, 
were panting with expectation. Lady Castlereagh, then one 
of the finest women of the court, appeared in the sergeant's 
box, palpitating for her husband's fate. The desponding ap- 
pearance and fallen crests of the ministerial benches and the 
exulting air of the opposition members as they entered, were 
intelligible. The murmurs of suppressed anxiety would have 
excited an interest even in the most unconnected stranger, 
who had known the objects and importance of the contest. 
How much more, therefore, must every Irish breast which 
panted in the galleries, have experienced that thrilling 
enthusiasm which accompanies the achievement of patriotic 
actions, when the minister's defeat was announced from the 
chair! A due sense of respect and decorum restrained the 
galleries within proper bounds : but a low cry of satisfaction 
from the female audience could not be prevented, and no 
sooner was the event made known out of doors, than the 
the crowds that had waited during the entire night with in- 
creasing impatience for the vote which was to decide on the 
independence of their country, sent forth loud and reiterated 
shouts of exultation, which, resounding through the corridors, 
and penetrating to the body of the house, added to the 
triumph of the conquerors, and to the misery of the adherents 
of the conquered minister."f 

The minister was utterly and unexpectedly worsted in his 

*M'Gee. f Sir Jonah Barrington, Rist and Fall of the Irish Nation, 



522 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

first attack ; but he was not shaken from his purpose. He 
could scarcely have credited that, notwithstanding his pre- 
vious laborious machinations of terror and seduction, there 
could still be found so much of virtue, courage, and independ- 
ence in the parliament. However, this bitter defeat merely 
caused him to fall back for the purpose of approaching by 
mine the citadel he had failed to carry by assault. The 
majority against him was narrow. The gaining of twenty 
or thirty members would make a difference of twice that 
number on a division, " All the weapons of seduction were 
in his hands," says Sir Jonah Barrington, " and to acquire a 
majority, he had only to overcome the wavering and the 
feeble." "Thirty-two new county judgeships," says another 
writer, " were created ; a great number of additional inspec- 
torships were also placed at the minister's disposal ; thirteen 
members had peerages for themselves or for their wives, with 
remainder to their children, and nineteen others were pre- 
sented to various lucrative offices." 

Both parties — Unionists and anti-Unionists, traitors and 
patriots — felt that during the parliamentary recess the issue 
would really be decided ; for by the time the next session 
opened the minister would have secured his majority if such 
an end was possible. The interval, accordingly, was one of 
painfully exciting struggle, each party straining every en- 
ergy. The government had a persuasive story for every sec- 
tional interest in the countr3\ It secretly assured the Catho- 
lic bishops, nay, solemnly pledged itself, that if the Union 
were carried, one of the first acts of the imperial parliament 
should be Catholic emancipation. "An Irish parliament will 
never grant it, can never afford to grant it " said the Castle 
tempter. " The fears of the Protestant minority in this coun- 
try will make them too much afraid of you. We alone can 
afford to rise above this miserable dread of your numbers." To 
the Protestants, on the other hand, the minister held out argu- 
ments just as insidious, as treacherous, and as fraudulent. 
" Behold the never-ceasing efforts of these Catholics! Do 
what you will, some day they must overwhelm you, being 
seven to one against you. There is no safety for you, no 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 523 

security or the Irish Protestant Church establishment, unless 
in a union with us. In Ireland, as a kingdom, you are in a 
miserable minority, sure to be some day overwhelmed and 
destroyed. United to Great Britain, you will bean indivisible 
part of one vast Protestant majority, and can afford to defy 
the Papists." 

Again, to the landed gentry, the terrors of " French prin- 
ciples," constant plots and rebellions, were artfully held forth. 
" No safety for society, no security for property, except in a 
union with Great Britain." Even the populace, the peasantry, 
were attempted to be overreached also, by inflaming them 
against the landlords as base yeomanry tyrants, whose fears 
of the people would ever make them merciless oppressors ! 

And it is curious to note that in that day — 1799 and 1800 — 
the identical great things that in our own time are still about 
to happen, and have always been about to happen, (but are 
never Jiappening) since 1800, were loudly proclaimed as the in- 
evitable first fruits of a union. '■'■ EnglisJi capital'^ was to flow 
into Ireland by the million, " owing," as the ministerialists 
sagaciously put it, " to the stability of Irish institutions when 
guaranteed by the union." Like infallible arguments were ready 
to show that commerce must instantaneously expand beyond 
calculation, and manufactures spring up as if by magic, all 
over the island. Peace, tranquillity, prosperit}^ contentment, 
and loyalty, must, it was likewise sagely argued, flow from 
the measure ; for the Irish would see the uselessness of rebel- 
ling against an united empire, and would be so happy that 
disaffection must become utterly unknown. Nay, whosoever 
consults the journals of that period, will find even the "gov- 
ernment dockyard at Cork," and other stock jobs of prom- 
ised "concession," figuring then just as they figure now.* 

But the endeavor to influence public opinion proved futile, 
and the minister found he must make up his mind to go 



* The vote of Mr. Robert Fitzgerald, of Corkabeg, was secured by " Lord Corn- 
wallis assuring him that in the event of the union a royal dock-yard would be built 
at Cork, which would double the value of his estates." Barrington's Rise and Fall of 
the Irish Nation. 



524 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

through with a naked, unsparing, unscrupulous, and unblush- 
ing corruption of individuals. Many of the Catholic bishops 
were overreached by the solemn pledge of emancipation ; 
but the overwhelming majority of the clergy, and the laity 
almost unanimously, scouted the idea of expediting their 
emancipation by an eternal betrayal of their country. The 
Orangemen on the other hand were equally patriotic. All 
the Protestant bishops but two were gained over by the min- 
ister ; yet the Protestant organizations everywhere passed 
resolutions, strong almost to sedition, against the union. 
Most important of all was the patriotic conduct of the IrishBar. 
They held a meeting to discuss the proposition of a "union," 
and not withstanding the open threatsof government vengeance, 
and public offers of " reward" or bribe there were found but 
thirty-two members of the bar to support the ministerial pro- 
position, v^'hile one hundred and sixty-six voted it a treason 
against the country. 

The next session, the last of the Irish parliament, assembled 
on the 15th January, 1800. The minister had counted every 
man, and by means the most iniquitous secured the requisite 
majority. Twenty-seven new peers had been added to the 
House of Lords, making the union project all safe there. 
In the Commons some thirty or forty seats had been changed 
by bargain with the owners of the boroughs. It was doubt- 
ful that any dona fide constituency in Ireland — even one — 
could be got to sanction the union scheme ; so the minister 
had to carry on his operations with what were called "pa- 
tronage boroughs," or "pocket-boroughs." 

The patriot party felt convinced that they were outnumber- 
ed, but they resolved to fight the battle vehemently while a 
chance remained. At the worst, if overborne in such a cause, 
they could expose the real nature of the transaction, and 
cause its illegality, infamy, and fraud, to be confessed ; so that 
posterity might know and feel the right and the duty of ap- 
pealing against, and recovering against, the crime of that hour. 
They persuaded Grattan to reenter parliament* to aid them 

* Three years before, he and many others of the patriot party had quitted parlia- 
ment in despair. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 525 

in this last defence of his and their country's liberties. He 
was at the moment lying on a bed of sickness, yet he assent- 
ed, and it was decided to have him returned for Wicklow 
town, that borough being the property of a friend. The writ 
was duly applied for, but the government withheld its issue 
up to the last moment allowed by law, designing to prevent 
Grattan's return in time for the debate on the address to the 
throne, the first trial of strength. Nevertheless, by a feat al- 
most unprecedented in parliamentary annals, that object was 
attained. "It was not until the day of the meeting of parlia- 
ment that the writ was delivered to the returning officer. By 
extraordinary exertions, and perhaps by following the example 
of government in overstraining the law, the election was held 
immediately on the arrival of the writ ; a sufficient number of 
votes were collected to return Mr.Grattan before midnisfht. 
By one o'clock the return was on its road to Dublin ; it arrived 
by five ; a party of Mr. Grattan's friends repaired to the 
house of the proper officer, and making him get out of bed, 
compelled him to present the writ in parliament before seven 
in the morning, when the house was in warm debate on the 
Union. A whisper ran through every party that Mr, Grattan 
was elected and would immediately take his seat. The minis- 
terialists smiled with incredulous derision, and the opposition 
thought the news too good to be true. 

" Mr. Egan was speaking strongly against the measure 
when Mr. George Ponsonby and Mr. Arthur Moore walked 
out, and immediately returned, leading, or rather helping 
Mr. Grattan, in a state of feebleness and debility. The effect 
was electric. Mr. Grattan's illness and deep chagrin had re- 
duced a form never symmetrical, and a visage at all times thin, 
nearly to the appearance of a spectre. As he feebly tottered 
into the house, every member simultaneously rose from his 
seat. He moved slowly to the table ; his languid countenance 
seemed to revive as he took those oaths that restored him to 
his preeminent station ; the smile of inward satisfaction ob- 
viously illuminated his features, and reanimation and energy 
seemed to kindle by the labor of his mind. The house was 
silent. Mr. Egan did not resume his speech. Mr. Grattan, 



526 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

almost breathless, as if by instinct attempted to rise, but was 
unable to stand ; he paused, and with difficulty requested per- 
mission of the house to deliver his sentiments without moving 
from his seat. This was acceded to by acclamation, and he 
who had left his bed of sickness to accord as he thought his 
last words in the parliament of his country, kindled gradually 
till his language glowed with an energy and feeling which he 
had seldom surpassed. After nearly two hours of the most 
powerful eloquence, he concluded with an undiminished vigor 
miraculous to those who were unacquainted with his intellect." 

The debate lasted for sixteen consecutive hours. It com- 
menced at seven o'clock on the evening of the 15th, continued 
throughout the entire night, and did not terminate until eleven 
o'clock of the forenoon on the i6th, when the division was 
taken. Then the minister's triumph was made clear. The 
patriots reckoned one hundred and fifteen votes ; the govern- 
ment one hundred and fifty-eight. There were twenty-seven 
absent from various causes, nearly every man an anti- Unionist ; 
but even these, if present, could not have turned the scale. 
The discussion clearly showed that Ireland's doom was 
sealed. 

There now commenced that struggle in the Irish senate 
house in College Green, over which the Irish reader becomes 
irresistibly excited. The minister felt that the plunge was 
taken, and now there must be no qualms, no scruples, as to 
the means of success. Strong in his purchased majority, he 
grew insolent, and the patriot minority found themselves sub- 
jected to every conceivable mode of assault and menace. The 
houses of parliament were invariably surrounded with soldiery. 
The debates were protracted throughout the entire night, 
and far into the forenoon of the next day. In all this, the cal- 
culation was, that in a wearying and exhausting struggle of 
this kind, men who were on the weak and losing side, and 
who had no personal interest to advance, must surely give 
way before the perseverance of men on the strong and win- 
ning side, who had each a large money price from the minister. 
But that gallant band, with Grattan, Ponsonby, Parsons, and 
Plunkett at their head, fought the struggle out with a tenacit}' 



THE STOBY OF IRELAND. 627 

/ 

that seemed to experience no exhaustion. In order to be 
at hand in the house, and to sit out the eighteen and twenty 
hour debates, the ministerialists formed a " dining club," and 
ate, drank, dined, slept, and breakfasted, like a military guard, 
in one of the committee rooms. The patriot party followed 
the same course ; and through various other manoeuvres met 
the enemy move for move. 

But the most daring and singular step of all was now taken 
by the government party — tJie formation of a duelling club. 
The premier (Lord Castlereagh) invited to a dinner party, at 
his own residence, a picked band of twenty of the most noted 
duellists amongst the ministerial followers ; and then and there 
it was decided to form a club, the members of which should be 
bound to " call out" any anti-Unionist expressing himself " im- 
moderately" against the conduct of the government ! In 
plain words, Grattan and his colleagues were to be shot down 
in designedly provoked duels ! 

Even this did not appal the patriot minority. With spirit 
undaunted they resolved to meet force by force. Grattan 
proposed that they should not give the ministerial " shooting 
club" any time for choosing its men, but that they themselves 
should forestal the government by a bold assumption of the 
offensive. He was himself the first to lead the way in the 
daring course he counselled. On the 17th February, the House 
went into committee on the articles of union, which, after a 
desperate struggle, as usual, were carried through by a major- 
ity of twenty votes ; one hundred and sixty to one hundred 
and forty. It was on this occasion Corry, the Chancellor of 
the Exchequer, made, for the third or fourth time that session, 
a virulent attack on the enfeebled and almost prostrate Grat- 
tan. But soon Corry found that though physically prostrated, 
the glorious intellect of Grattan was as proud and strong as 
ever, and that the heart of a lion beat in the patriot leader's 
breast. Grattan answered the chancellor by "that famous 
philippic, unequalled in our language for its well-suppressed 
passion and finely condensed denunciation." A challenge pass- 
ed on the instant, and Grattan, having the choice of time, in- 
sisted on fighting that viovient or rather that morning, as soon 



528 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

as daylight would admit. Accordingly, leaving the house 
in full debate, about day dawn the principals and their seconds 
drove to the Phoenix Park. Before half-an-hour Grattan had 
shot his man, terminating, in one decisive encounter, the 
Castlereagh campaign of "fighting down the opposition." 
The ministerial'* duelling club" was heard of no more. 

" Throughout the months of February and March, with an 
occasional adjournment, the constitutional battle was fought 
on every point permitted by the forms of the house." On the 
25th March the committee finally reported the Union resolu- 
tions, which were passed in the house by forty-seven of a 
majority. After six weeks of an interval, to allow the British 
parliament to make like progress, the Union Bill was (25th 
May, 1800) introduced into the Irish Commons, and on the 
7th of June the Irish parliament met for the last time. " The 
closing scene," as Mr. M'Gee truly remarks, " has been often 
described, but never so graphically as by the diamond pen of 
Sir, Jonah Barrington." That description 1 quote unabridged : 

" The Commons House of Parliament on the last evening 
afforded the most melancholy example of an mdependent peo- 
ple, betrayed, divided, sold, and as a State annihilated. British 
clerks and officers were smuggled into her parliament to vote 
away the constitution of a country to which they were stran- 
gers, and in which they had neither interest nor connection. 
They were employed to cancel the royal charter of the Irish 
nation, guaranteed by the British government, sanctioned by 
the British legislature, and unequivocally confirmed by the 
words, the signature, and the great seal of their monarch ! 

" The situation of the Speaker on that night was of the 
most distressing nature. A sincere and ardent enemy of the 
measure, he headed its opponents, he resisted it with all the 
power of his mind, the resources of his experience, his in- 
fluence, and his eloquence. 

" It was, however, through his voice that it was to be pro- 
claimed and consummated. His only alternative (resignation) 
would have been unavailing, and could have added nothing 
to his character. His expressive countenance bespoke the 
inquietude of his feelings; solicitude was perceptible in every 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 529 

glance, and his embarrassment was obvious in every word he 
uttered. 

" The galleries were full, but the change was lamentable ; 
they were no longer crowded with those who had been ac- 
customed to witness the eloquence and to animate the debates 
of that devoted assembly. A monotonous and melancholy mur- 
mur ran through the benches, scarcely a word was exchanged 
amongst the members, nobody seemed at ease, no cheerfulness 
was apparent, and the ordinary business for a short time pro- 
ceeded in the usual manner. 

'♦ At length the expected moment arrived, the order of the 
day for the third reading of the bill for a ' Legislative Union 
between Great Britain and Ireland,' was moved by Lord 
Castlereagh. Unvaried, tame, cold-blooded, the words seemed 
frozen as they issued from his lips, and as if a simple citizen 
of the world, he seemed to have no sensation on the subject. 
At that moment he had no country, no god but his ambition. 
He made his motion, and resumed his seat with the utmost 
composure and indifference. 

" Confused murmurs again ran through the house; it was 
visibly affected ; every character in a moment seemed invol- 
untarily rushing to its index; some pale, some flushed, some 
agitated ; there were few countenances to which the heart 
did not despatch some messenger. Several members withdrew 
before the question could be repeated, and an awful momen- 
tary silence succeeded their departure. The Speaker rose 
slowly from that chair which had been the proud source of 
his honors and his high character ; for a moment he resumed 
his seat, but the strength of his mind sustained him in his duty, 
though his struggle was apparent. With that dignity which 
never failed to signalize his official actions, he held up the 
bill for a moment in silence : he looked steadily around him 
on the last agony of the expiring parliament. He at length re- 
peated in an emphatic tone, ' As many as are of opinion that 
this bill do pass, say aye.' The affirmative was languid but 
indisputable : another momentary pause ensued, again his lips 
seemed to decline their office; at length with an eye averted 
from the object which he hated, he proclaimed with a subdued 



530 THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 

voice,* The ayes have itH The fatal sentence was now pronounced ; 
for an instant he stood statue-like, then indignantly, and with 
disgust, flung the bill upon the table, and sunk into his chair 
with an exhausted spirit. An independent country was thus de- 
graded into aprovince: Ireland as a nation was extinguished."* 
The subjoined verses, written on the night of that sorrow- 
ful scene — by some attributed to the pen of Moore, by others 
to that of Furlong — immediately made their appearance; a 
Dirge and a Prophecy we may assuredly call them : — 

O Ireland ! my country, the hour 

Of thy pride and thy splendor is past ; . 
And the chain that was spurned in thy moment of power, 

Hangs heavy around thee at last. 
There are marks in the fate of each clime — 

There are turns in the fortunes of men ; 
But the changes of realms, and the chances of time, 

Can never restore thee again. 

Thou art chained to the wheel of thy foe 

By links which the world shall not sever. 
With thy tyrant, thro' storm and thro' calm shalt thou go, 

And thy sentence is — bondage for ever. 
Thou art doom'd for the thankless to toil, 

Thou art left for the proud to disdain, 
And the blood of thy sons and the wealth of thy soil 

Shall be wasted, and wasted in vain. 

Thy riches with taunts shall be taken, 

Thy valor with coldness repaid ; 
And of millions who see thee thus sunk and forsaken 

Not one shall stand forth in thine aid. 
In the nations thy place is left void, '' 

Thou art lost in the list of the free. 
Even realms by the plague or the earthquake destroyed 

May revive : but no hope is for thee. 



* In their private correspondence at the time, the ministers were very candid as to 
the villany of their conduct. The letters of Lord Castlereagh and Lord Cornwallis, 
abound with the most startling revelations and admissions. The former (Lord Castle- 
reagh) writing to Secretary Cook, 2ist June, 1800 (expostulating against an inten- 
tion of the government to break some of the bargains of corruption, as too excessive, 
now that the deed was accomplished), says : " It will be no secret what has been 
promised, and by what means the Union had been carried. Disappointment will en- 
courage, not prevent disclosures; and the only effect of such a proceeding on their 
(the ministers.) part will be to add the weight of their testimony to that of the anti- 
Unionists in proclaiming the profigacy of the means by which the measure was accom- 
plished: 



THE STORY OF IRELAKD. 531 



X 




LXXXII. — IRELAND AFTER THE UNION. THE STORY OF ROBERT 

EMMET. 

HE peasants of Podolia, when no Russian myrmidon is 
nigh, chant aloud the national hymn of their captivity 
— " Poland is not dead yet'' Whoever reads the story 
of this western Poland — this " Poland of the seas " — 
will be powerfully struck with the one all-prominent fact of 
Ireland's indestructible vitality. Under circumstances where 
any other people would have succumbed for ever, where any 
other nation would have resigned itself to subjugation and ac- 
cepted death, the Irish nation scorns to yield, and refuses 
to die. 

It survived the four centuries of war from the second to the 
eighth Henry of England. It survived the exterminations of 
Elizabeth, by which Froude has been so profoundly appalled. 
It survived the butcheries of Cromwell, and the merciless 
persecutions of the Penal times. It survived the bloody 
policy of Ninety-eight. Confiscations, such as are to be 
found in the history of no other country in Europe, again and 
again tore up society by the roots in Ireland, trampling the 
noble and the gentle into poverty and obscurity. The mind 
was sought to be quenched, the intellect extinguished, the 
manners debased and brutified. " The perverted ingenuity 
of man " could go no further in the untiring endeavor to kill 
out all aspirations of freedom, all instinct of nationality in the 
Irish breast. Yet this indestructible nation has risen under 
the blows of her murderous persecutors, triumphant and im- 
mortal. She has survived even England's latest and most 
deadly blow, designed to be the final stroke — the Union. 

Almost on the threshold of the new century, the conspiracy 
of Robert Emmet startled the land like the sudden explosion 
of a mine. In the place assigned in Irish memory to the youth- 
ful and ill-fated leader of this enterprize, is powerfully illus- 



532 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

trated the all-absorbing, all-indulging love of a people for 
those who purely give up life on the altar of Country. Many 
considerations might seem to invoke on Emmet the censure 
of stern judgment for the apparently criminal hopelessness of 
his scheme. Napoleon once said that " nothing consolidates 
a new dynasty like an unsuccessful insurrection;" and un- 
questionably Emmet's entente gave all possible consolidation 
to the "Union" regime. It brought down on Ireland the 
terrible penalty of ?i five years suspension of the Habeas Corpus 
Act, and a contemporaneous continuance of the bloody " In- 
surrection Act," aggravating tenfold all the miseries of the 
country. Nevertheless, the Irish nation has canonized his 
memory— has fondly placed his name on the roll of its patriot 
martyrs. His extreme youth, his pure and gentle nature, his 
lofty and noble aims, his beautiful and touching speech in the 
dock, and his tragic death upon the scafTold, have been all- 
efficacious with his countrymen to shield his memory from 
breath of blame. 

Robert Emmet was the youngest brother of Thomas Addis 
Emmet, one of the most distinguished and illustrious of the 
United Irish leaders. He formed the daring design of sur- 
prising the castle of Dublin, and, by the seizure of the capital, 
the inauguration of a rebellion throughout the provinces. In- 
deed it was, as Mr. M'Gee remarks, the plan of Roger O'More 
and Lord Maguire in 1641. In this project he was joined by 
several of the leaders in the recent insurrection, amongst them 
being Thomas Russell, one of the bravest and noblest char- 
acters that ever appeared on the page of history, and Michael 
Dwyer, of Wicklow, who still, as for the past five years, held 
his ground in the defiles of Glenmalure and Imall, defying 
and defeating all attempts to capture him. But, beside the 
men whose names were openly revealed in connection with 
the plot, and these comprised some of the best and worthiest 
in the land, it is beyond question that there were others not 
discovered, filling high positions in Ireland, in England and in 
France, who approved, counselled, and assisted in Emmet's 
design. 

Although the conspiracy embraced thousands of associates 



THE STORY OF IRELAND- 533 

in Dublin alone, not a man betrayed the secret to the last ; 
and Emmet went on with his preparations of arms and am- 
munition in two or three depots in the city. Even when one 
of these exploded accidentally, the government failed to de- 
vine what was afoot, though their suspicions were excited. 
On the night of the 23d of July, 1803, Emmet sallied forth 
from one of the depots at the head of less than a hundred men. 
But the whole scheme of arrangements — although it certain- 
ly was one of the most ingenious and perfect ever devised 
by the skill of man — like most of other conspiracies of the 
kind, crumbled in all its parts at the moment of action. "There 
was failure everywhere ;" and to further insure defeat, a few 
hours before the moment fixed for the march upon the Castle, 
intelligence reached the government /r^;« Kildare, that some 
outbreak was to take place that night, as bodies of the dis- 
affected peasantry from that county had been observed mak- 
ing towards the city. The authorities were accordingly on 
the ^?«' ?7W to some extent when Emmet reached the street. 
His expected musters had not appeared ; his own band dwin- 
dled to a score ; and, to him the most poignant affliction of all, 
an act of lawless bloodshed, the murder of Lord Justice Kil- 
v/arden, one of the most humane and honorable judges, stain- 
ed the short-lived emeicte. Incensed beyond expression by this 
act, and perceiving the ruin of his attempt, Emmet gave per- 
emptory orders for its instantaneous abandonment. He him- 
self hurried off towards Wicklow in time to countermand the 
rising there and in Wexford and Kildare. It is beyond 
question that his prompt and strenuous exertions, his aversion 
to the useless sacrifice of life, alone prevented a protracted 
struggle in those counties. 

His friends now urged him to escape, and several means of 
escape were offered to him. He, however, insisted on post- 
poning his departure for a few days. He refused to disclose 
his reason for this perilous delay ; but it was eventually dis- 
covered. Between himself and the young daughter of the 
illustrious Curran there existed the most tender and devoted 
attachment, and he was resolved not to quit Ireland without 
bidding her an eternal farewell. This resolve cost him his life. 



534: THE STORY OF IBELAND. 

While awaiting an opportunity for an interview with Miss 
Curran, he was arrested on the 25th August, 1803, at a house 
on the east side of Harold's Cross Road, a few perches beyond 
the canal bridge. On the 19th of the following month he 
was tried at Green Street; upon which occasion, after con- 
viction, he delivered that speech which has probably more 
than aught else tended to immortalize his name. Next morn- 
ing, 2oth September, 1803, he was led out to die. There is a 
story that Sarah Curran was admitted to a farewell in- 
terview with her hapless lover on the night preceding his 
execution, but it rests on slender authority, and is opposed to 
probabilities. But it is true that as he was being led to exe- 
cution, a last farewell was exchanged between them. A car- 
riage, containing Miss Curran and a friend, was drawn up on 
the roadside, near Kilmainham, and, evidently by preconcert, 
as the vehicle containing Emmet passed by on the way to the 
place of execution the unhappy pair exchanged their last 
greeting on earth,* 

In Thomas Street, at the head of Bridgefoot Street, and di- 
rectly opposite the Protestant church of St. Catherine, the 
fatal beam and platform were erected. It is said that Emmet 
had been led to expect a rescue at the last, either by Russell 
(who was in town for that purpose), or by Michael Dwyer 
and his mountain band. He mounted the scaffold with firm- 
ness, and gazed about him long and wistfully, as if he expect- 
ed to read the signal of hope from some familiar face in the 
crowd. He protracted all the arrangements as much as pos- 
sible, and even when at length the fatal noose was placed up- 
on his neck, he begged a little pause. The executioner again 
and again asked him was he ready, and each time was an- 
swered : " Not yet, not yet." Again the same question, and, 
says one who was present, while the words " Not yet" were 
still being uttered by Emmet, the bolt was drawn, and he was 
launched into eternity. The head was severed from his body, 
and " according to law," held up to the public gaze by the 
executioner as the " head of a traitor." An hour afterwards, 

'■* Madden's Lives a^d Times of the United Irishmen, 




ROBERT EMMET. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 535 

as an eyewitness tells us, the dogs of the street were lapping 
from the ground the blood of the pure and gentle Robert 
Emmet. 

Moore was the fellow-student and companion of Emmet, 
and, like all who knew him, ever spoke in fervent admiration 
of the youthful patriot-martyr as the impersonation of all that 
was virtuous, generous, and exalted ! More than once did 
the minstrel dedicate his strains to the memory of that friend 
whom he never ceased to mourn. The following verses are 
familiar to most Irish readers ; 

Oh ! breathe not his name ; let it sleep in the shade 

Where cold and unhonored his relics are laid. 

Sad, silent, and dark be the tear that is shed, 

Like the night-dew that falls on the grass o'er his head. 

But the night-dew that falls, though in secret it weeps, 
Still freshens with verdure the grave where he sleeps ; 
So the tear that is shed, while in secret it rolls, 
Shall long keep its memory green in our souls ! 

Soon afterwards the gallant and noble-hearted Russell was 
executed at Downpatrick, and for months subsequently the 
executioner was busy at his bloody work in Dublin. Michael 
Dwyer, however, the guerilla of the Wicklow hills, held his 
ground in the fastnesses of Luggielaw, Glendalough, and 
Glenmalure. In vain regiment after regiment was sent 
against him. Dwyer and his trust)' band defeated every ef- 
fort of their foes. The military detachments one by one 
were wearied and worn out by the privations of campaigning 
in that wild region of dense forest and trackless mountain. 
The guerilla chief was apparently ubiquitous, always invisible 
when wanted by his pursuers, but terribly visible when not 
expected by them. In the end some of the soldiers * became 
nearly as friendly to him as the peasantry, frequently sending 
him word of any movement intended against him. More than 
a year passed by, and the powerful British government, that 



* They were Highland regiments. Through the insurrections of 1798 and 1803, 
the Highland regiments behaved with the greatest humanity and, where possible 
kindness toward the Irish peasantry. 



536 THE STOKY OF IKELAND. 

could suppress the insurrection at large in a few months, 
found itself, so far, quite unable to subdue the indomitable 
Outlaw of Glenmalure. At length it was decided to " open 
up" the district which formed his stronghold, by a series of 
military roads and a chain of mountain forts, barracks, and 
outposts. The scheme was carried out, and the tourist who 
now seeks the beauties of Glencree, Luggielaw, and Glenda- 
lough, will travel by the " military roads," and pass the 
mountain forts or barracks, which the government of Eng- 
land found it necessary to construct before it could wrest 
from Michael Dw3'er the dominion of those romantic scenes. 

The well authenticated stories of Dvvyer's hairbreadth es- 
capes by flood and field would fill a goodly volume. One of 
them reveals an instance of devoted heroism — of self-immola- 
tion — which deserves to be recorded in letters of gold. 

One day the Outlaw Chief had been so closely pursued that 
his little band had to scatter, the more easily to escape, or to 
distract the pursuers, who, on this occasion, were out in tre- 
mendous force scouring hill and plain. Some hours after 
nightfall, Dvvyer, accompanied by only four of his party (and 
fully believing that he had successfully eluded his foes), entered 
a peasant's cottage in the wild and picturesque solitude of 
Imall. He was, of course, joyously welcomed ; and he and 
his tired companions soon tasted such humble hospitality as 
the poor mountaineer's hut could afford. Then they gave 
themselves to repose. 

But the Outlaw Patriot had not shaken the foe from his 
track that evening. He had been traced to the mountain hut 
with sleuth-hound patience and certainty ; and now, while he 
slept in fancied security, the little sheeling was being stealth- 
ily surrounded by soldiery ! 

Some stir on the outside, some chance rattle of a musket, or 
clank of a sabre, awakened one of the sleepers within. A 
glance through a door-chink soon revealed all ; and Dwyer, at 
the first whisper springing to his feet, found that after nearly 
five years of proud defiance and successful struggle, he was 
at length in the toils! Presently the officer in command out- 
side knocked at the door " in the name of the king." Dwyer 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 537 

answered, demanding his business. The officer said he knew 
that Michael Dwyer the Outlaw was inside. " Yes," said 
Dwyer, " I am the man." " Then," rejoined the officer, " as I 
desire to avoid useless bloodshed, surrender. This house is 
surrounded ; we must take you, alive or dead." " If you are 
averse to unnecessary bloodshed," said Dwyer, " first let the 
poor man whose house this is, and his innocent wife and chil- 
dren, pass through. I came into this house unbidden, unex- 
pectedly. They are guiltless. Let them go free, and then I 
shall consider your proposition as regards myself." 

The officer assented. The poor cottager, his wife, and 
children were passed through. 

" Now, then," cried the officer, " surrender in the name of 
the king." 

" Never! " shouted Dwyer; " we defy you in the name of 
Ireland." 

The hills echoed to the deafening peals that followed on 
this response. For nearly an hour Dwyer and his four com- 
panions defended the sheeling, keeping their foes at bay. But 
by this time one of them lay mortally wounded. Soon a 
shout of savage joy from the soldiery outside was followed 
by a lurid glare all around. They had set the cabin on fire 
over the heads of the doomed outlaws ! 

Then spoke up Dwyer's wounded companion, Alexander 
Mac Alister ; " My death is near ; my hour is come. Even 
if the way was clear, there is no hope forme. Promise to do as 
I direct, and I will save you all." Then the poor fellow desir- 
ed them to prop him up, gun in hand, immediately inside the 
door. " Now," continued he, "they are expecting you to 
rush out, and they have their rifles levelled at the door. 
Fling it open. Seeing me. they will all fire at me. Do you 
then quickly dash out through the smoke, before they can 
load again ! " 

They did as the dying hero bade them. They flung the 
door aside. There was an instantaneous volley, and the brave 
Mac Alister fell pierced by fifty bullets. Quick as lightning 
Dwyer and his three comrades dashed through the smoke! 
He alone succeeded in breaking through the encircling sol- 



538 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

diers ; and once outside in the darkness, on those trackless 
hills he was lost to all pursuit ! 

Nor was he ever captured. Long afterwards, every effort 
to that end having been tried for years in vain, he was offered 
honorable conditions of surrender. He accepted them ; but, 
when was a treaty kept towards the Irish brave ? Its specific 
terms were basely violated by the government, and he was 
banished to Australia. 

The mountaineers of Wicklow to this day keep up the tra- 
ditions of Michael Dwyer— of his heroism, his patriotism— of 
his daring feats, his marvellous escapes. But it is of the 
devoted MacAlister that they treasure the most tender mem- 
ory ; and around their firesides in the winter evenings, the 
cottagers of Glenmalure, in rustic ballad or simple stor}^ re- 
count with tearful eyes and beating hearts how he died to save 
his chief in the sheeling of Imall. 

The following ballad, by Mr. T. D. Sullivan, follows liter- 
ally the story of the hero-martyr MacAlister : 

"At length, brave Michael Dwyer, you and your trusty men 
Are hunted o'er the mountains and tracked into the glen. 
Sleep not, but watch and listen ; keep ready blade and ball ; 
The soldiers know you 're hiding to-night in wild Imaal." 

The soldiers searched the valley, and towards the dawn of day 
Discovered where the outlaws, the dauntless rebels lay. 
Around the little cottage they formed into a ring. 
And called out, "Michael Dwyer ! surrender to the king ! " 

Thus answered Michael Dwyer ; "Into this house we came, 
Unasked by those who own it — they cannot be to blame. 
Then let these peaceful people unquestioned pass you through, 
And when they're placed in safety, I'll tell you what we'll do." 

'T was done, " And now," said Dwyer, " your work you may begin 
You' are a hundred outside — we're only four within. 
We've heard your haughty summons, and this is our reply j 
We're true United Irishmen, we'll fight until we die." 

Then burst the war's red lightning, then poured the leaden rain, 
The hills around reechoed the thunder peals again. 
The soldiers falling round him, brave Dwyer sees with pride — 
But, ah ! one gallant comrade is wounded by his side. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 539 

Yet there are three remaining good battle still to do ; 
Their hands are strong and steady, their aim is quick and true — 
But hark that furious shouting the savage soldiers raise ! 
The house is fired around them ! the roof is in a blaze ! 

And brighter every moment the lurid flame arose, 
And louder sw^elled the laughter and cheering of their foes. 
Then spake the brave M'Alister, the weak and wounded man: 
" You can escape, my comrades, and this shall be your plan: 

" Place in my hands a musket, then he upon the floor : 

I'll stand before the soldiers, and open wide the door : 

They'll pour into my bosom the fire of their array : 

Then, whilst their guns are empty, dash through them and away," 

He stood before his foemen revealed amidst the flame. 
From out their levelled pieces the wished-for volley came ; 
Up sprang the three survivors for whom the hero died, 
But only Michael Dwyer broke through the ranks outside. 

He baffled his pursuers, who followed like the wind ; 
He swam the river Slaney, and left them far behind ; 
But many an English soldier he promised soon should fall, 
For these, his gallant comrades, who died in wild Imaal. 

The surrender of Michael Dwyer was the last event of the 
insurrection of 1798— 1803. But, for several years subsequent- 
ly, the Habeas Corpus Act continued suspended and an insur- 
rection act was in full force. Never up to the hour of Nap- 
oleon's abdication at Fontainbleau, did the spectre of a French 
invasion of Ireland cease to haunt the mind of England. 



54:0 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 



/ 




LXXXIII.— HOW THE IRISH CATHOLICS, UNDER THE LEADER- 
SHIP OF O'CONNELL, WON CATHOLIC EMANCIPATION. 

MMET'S insurrection riveted the Union chain on Ire- 
land. It was for a time the death-blow of public life 
in the country. When political action reappeared, a 
startling change, a complete revolution, had been 
wrought. An entirely new order of things appeared in poli- 
tics — an entirely new phase of national life and effort ; new 
forces in new positions and with new tactics. Everything 
seemed changed. 

Hitherto political Ireland meant the Protestant minority of 
the population alone. Within this section there were nation- 
alists and anti-nationalists, whigs and tories, emancipationists 
and anti-emancipationists. They talked of, and at, and about 
the Catholics (the overwhelming mass of the population) 
very much as parties in America, previous to i860, debated 
the theoretical views and doctrines relating to negro eman- 
cipation. Some went so far as to maintain that a Catholic was 
"a man and a brother." Others declared this a revolutionary 
proposition, subversive of the crown and government. The 
parties discussed the matter as a speculative subject. But now 
the Catholic millions themselves appeared on the scene, to 
plead and agitate their own cause, and alongside the huge 
reality of their power, the exclusively Protestant political 
fabric sunk into insignificance, and as such disappeared for- 
ever. In theory — legal theory — no doubt the Protestant min- 
ority were for a longtime subsequently "The State," but men 
ignored the theory and dealt with the fact. From 18 10 to 1829, 
the politics of Ireland were bound up in the one question — 
emancipation or no emancipation. The Catholics had many true 
and staunch friends amongst the Protestant patriots. Grattan, 
Curran, Plunkett, Burke, are names that will never be forgot- 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 541 

ten by enfranchised Catholic Irishmen. But by all British 
parties and party leaders alike they found themselves in turn 
deceived, abandoned, betrayed. Denounced by the king, 
assailed by the tories, betrayed by the whigs ; one moment 
favored by a premier, a cabinet, or a section of a cabinet ; the 
next forbidden to hope, and commanded to desist from further 
effort on the peril of fresh chains and scourges — the enslaved 
miUions at length took the work of their redemption out of 
the hands of English party chiefs and cliques, and resolved to 
make it a question of national emergency, not of party expe- 
diency. 

The great victory of Catholic Emancipation was won out- 
side of the Parliament, but within the lines of constitutional 
action. It was mainly the work of one man, whose place in 
the hearts of his countrymen was rarely, if ever before, reach- 
ed, and probably will be rarely reached again by king or 
commoner. The people called him " Liberator." Others 
styled him truly the " Father of his Country " — the " Uncrown- 
ed Monarch of Ireland." All the nations of Christendom, as 
the simplest yet truest homage to his fame, recognize him in 
the world's history as "O'Connell." 

It may well be doubted if any other man or any other tac- 
tics could have succeeded, where the majestic genius, the 
indomitable energy,and the /^roUan strategy oi O'ConneW were 
so notably victorious. Irishmen of this generation can scarce- 
ly form an adequate conception of the herculean task that 
confronted the young barrister of 1812. The condition of 
Ireland was unlike that of any other country in the world in 
any age. The Catholic nobility and old gentry had read his- 
tory so mournfully that the soul had quietly departed from 
them. They had seen nothing but confiscation result from 
past efforts, and they had learned to fear nothing more than 
new agitation that might end similarly. Like the lotus-eater, 
their cry was, " Let us alone." By degrees some of them crept 
out a little into the popular movement ; but at the utterance 
of an " extreme " doctrine or " violent " opinion by young 
O'Connell, or other of those" inflammatory politicians," they 
fled back to their retirement with terrified hearts, and called 



542 ' THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

out to the government that, for their parts, they reprobated any 
thing that might displease the king or embarrass the ministry. 

Nor was it the CathoHc nobiHty and gentry alone whose un- 
exampled pusillanimity long thwarted and retarded O'Connell. 
The Catholic bishops for a long time received him and the 
" advanced " school of emancipationists with unconcealed dis- 
like and alarm. They had seen the terrors and rigors of the 
penal times ; and " leave to live," even by mere connivance, 
seemed to them a great boon. The " extreme" ideas of this 
young O'Connell and his party could onl}^ result in mischief. 
Could he not go on in the old slow and prudent way ? What 
could he gam by " extreme " and " impracticable" demands? 

In nothing did O'Connell's supreme tact and prudence man- 
ifest itself more notably than in his dealings with the Catholic 
bishops who were opposed to and unfriendly to him. He 
never attempted to excite popular indignation against them 
as " Castle politicians ;" he never allowed a word disrespect- 
ful towards them to be uttered ; he never attempted to degrade 
them in public estimation, even on the specious plea that it 
was " only in the capacity of politicians " he assailed them. 
Many and painful were the provocations he received ; yet he 
never was betrayed from his impregnable position of mingled 
firmness and prudence. It was hard to find the powers of an 
oppressive government — fines and penalties, proclamations 
and prosecutions — smiting him at every step, and withal be- 
hold not only the Catholic aristocracy, but the chief members 
of the hierarchy also arrayed against him, negatively sustain- 
ing and encouraging the tyranny of the government. But he 
bore it all ; for he well knew that, calamitous as was the con- 
duct of those prelates, it proceeded from no corrupt or selfish 
consideration, but arose from weakness of judgment, when 
dealing with such critical, legal and political questions. He 
bore their negative if not positive opposition long and patient- 
ly, and in the end had the triumph of seeing many converts 
from amongst his early opponents zealous in action by his 
side, and of feehng that no word or act of his had weakened 
the respect, veneration, and affection due from a Catholic peo- 
ple to their pastors and prelates. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. ' 543 

From the outset he was loyally sustained by the Catholic 
mercantile classes, by the body of the clergy, and by the mass- 
es of the population in town and country. Owing to the atti- 
tude of the bishops, the secular or parochial clergy for a time 
deemed it prudent to hold aloof from any very prominent 
participation in the movement, though their sentiments were 
never doubted. But the regular clergy — the religious orders 
— flung themselves ardently into the people's cause. When 
every other place of meeting, owing to one cause or another, 
was closed against the young Catholic leaders, the Carmelite 
Church in Clarendon Street became their rallying point and 
place of assembly in Dublin, freely given for the purpose by 
the community. 

O'Connell laid down as the basis of his political action in 
Ireland this proposition, '^Ireland cannot fight England^ From 
this he evolved others, " If Ireland try to fight England, she 
will be worsted. She has tried too often. She must not try 
it any more." That acumen, that prescience, in which he ex- 
celled all men of his generation, taught him that a change 
was coming over the world, and that superior might — brute 
force — would not always be able to resist the power of opin- 
ion, could not always afford to be made odious and rendered 
morally weak. Above all, he knew that there remained, at 
the worst, to an oppressed people unable to match their op- 
pressors in a military struggle, the grand policy of Passive 
Resistance, \>y which the weak can drag down the haughty 
and the strong. 

Moulding all his movements on these principles, O'Connell 
resolved to show his countrymen that they could win their 
rights by action strictly within the constitution. And, very 
naturally, therefore, he regarded the man who would even 
ever so slightly tempt them outside of it, as their direst enemy. 
He happily combined in himself all the qualifications for guid- 
ing them through that system of guerilla warfare in politics, 
which alone could enable them to defeat the government, 
without violating the law ; quick to meet each dexterous evol- 
ution of the foe by some equally ingenious artifice; evading 
the ponderous blow designed to crush him — disappearing in 



544 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

one guise, only to start up in another. No man but himself 
could have carried the people, as he did safely and victoriously 
throuo-h such a campaign, with the scanty political resources 
then possessed by Irish Catholics. It was scarcely hyperbole 
to call him the Moses of the modern Israel. 

His was no smooth and straight road. Young Irishmen 
can scarcely realise the discouragements and difficulties, the 
repeated failures — seeming failures — the reverses, that often 
flung him backward, apparently defeated. But with him 
there was no such word as fail. The people trusted him and 
followed him with the docile and trustful obedience of troops 
obeying the commands of a chosen general. For them — for 
the service of Ireland — he gave up his professional prospects. 
He labored for them, he thought for them, he lived but for 
them ; and he was ready to die for them. A trained shot — a 
chosen bravo — D'Esterre — was set on by the Orange corpor- 
ation of Dublin to shoot him down in a duel. O'Connell met 
his adversary at eighteen paces, and laid him mortally wound- 
ed on the field. By degrees even those who for long years 
had held aloof from the Catholic leader began to bow in hom- 
age to the sovereignty conferred by the popular will ; and Eng- 
lish ministries, one by one, found themselves powerless to 
grapple with the influence he wielded. If, indeed, they could 
but goad or entrap him into a breach of the law ; if they 
could only persuade the banded Irish millions to obligingly 
meet England in the arena of her choice — namely, the field of 
war— then the ministerial anxieties would be over. They 
could soon make an end of the Catholic cause there. But, 
most provokingly, O'Connell was able to baffle this idea- 
was able to keep the most high-spirited, impetuous, and war 
loving people in the world deaf, as it were to all such chal- 
lenges ; callous, as it were, to all such provocations. They 
would, most vexatiously, persist in choosing their own ground, 
their own tactics, their own time and mode of action, and would 
not allow England to force hers upon them at all. Such a 
policy broke the heart and maddened the brain of English op- 
pression. In vain the king stormed and the Duke of York 
swore. In vain the old "saws "of "Utopian dreams "and 



THE STORY OF IKELAMD. 545 

'' Splendid phantoms" were flung at the emancipationists. Men 
sagely pointed out that emancipation was " inconsistent with 
the coronation oath," was " incompatible with the British con- 
stitution ;" that it involved " the severence of the countries," 
the dismemberment of the empire," and that" England would 
spend her last shilling, and her last man, rather than grant it." 
Others, equally profound, declared that in a week after eman- 
cipation, Irish Catholics and Protestants " would be cutting 
each other's throats ; " that there would be a massacre of Pro- 
testants all over the island, and that it was England's duty, in 
the interests of good order, civilization, and humanity, not to 
afford an opportunity for such anarchy. 

There is a most ancient and fish-like smell about these 
precious arguments. They are indeed very old and much 
decayed ; yet my young readers will find them always used 
whenever an Irish demand for freedom cannot be encountered 
on the merits. 

But none of them could impose upon or frighten O'Connell. 
He went on, rousing the whole people into one mass of fierce 
earnestness and enthusiasm, until the island glowed and 
heaved like a volcano. Peel and Wellington threatened war. 
Coercion acts followed each other in quick succession. Sud- 
denly there appeared a sight as horrific to English oppression 
as the hand upon the wall to Belshazzar — Irish regiments 
cheering for O'Cojmell ! Then, indeed, the hand that held the 
chain shook with the palsy of mortal fear. Peel and Welling- 
ton — those same ministers whose especial " platform" was re- 
sistance a Voutrance to Catholic emancipation — came down to 
the House of Commons and told the assembled parliament 
that Catholic emancipation must be granted. The " Man of 
the People" had conquered. 



5iQ 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 



LXXXIV.— HOW THE IRISH PEOPLE NEXT SOUGHT TO ACHIEVE 
THE RESTORATION OF THEIR LEGISLATIVE INDEPENDENCE. 
HOW ENGLAND ANSWERED THEM WITH A CHALLENGE TO 
THE SWORD. 



^1 



' MANCIPATION was won ; yet there was a question 
nearer and dearer even than emancipation to O'Connell's 



^/^^k heart ; the question of national independence — the re- 
d^'^ peal of the iniquitous Union. It might be thought that 
as an emancipated Catholic he would be drawn towards the 
legislature that had freed him, rather than to that which had 
forged the shackles thus struck off. But O'Connell had the 
spirit and the manhood of a patriot. While yet he wore those 
penal chains, he publicly declared that he would willingly for- 
feit all chance of emancipation from the British parliament 
for the certainty of repeal. His first public speech had been 
made against the Union; and even so early as 1812, he con- 
templated relinquishing the agitation for emancipation, and 
devoting all his energies to a movement for repeal, but was 
dissuaded from that purpose by his colleagues. 

Now, however, his hands were free, and scarcely had he 
been a year in parliamentary harness, when he unfurled the 
standard of repeal. His new organization was instantaneously 
suppressed by proclamation — the act of the Irish secretar}', 
Sir Henry Hardinge. The proclamation was illegal, yet 
O'Connell bowed to it. He denounced it, however, as " an 
atrocious Polignac proclamation. " and plainl}- intimated his 
conviction that Hardinge designed to force the country into 
a fight. Not that O'Connell " abjured the sword and stig- 
matized the sword " in the abstract ; but, as he himself ex- 
pressed it, the time had not come. " Why, " said he " I would 
rather be a dog, and bay the moon, than the Irishman who 
would tamely submit to so infamous a proclamation. I have 
not opposed it hitherto, because that would implicate the 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 547 

people, and give our enemies a triumph. But I will oppose 
it, and that, too, not in the way that the paltry Castle scribe 
would wish — by force. No. Ireland is not in a state for re- 
pelling force by force. Too short a period has elapsed since 
the cause of contention between Protestants and Catholics 
was removed — too little time has been given for healing the 
wounds of factious contention, to allow Ireland to use physi- 
cal force in the attainment of her rights or her punishment 
of wrong. " 

Hardly had his first repeal society been suppressed by the 
*' Polignac proclamation, " than he established a second, 
styled " The Irish Volunteers for the Repeal of the Union. " 
x\nother government proclamation as quickly appeared 
suppressing this body also. O'Connell, ever fertile of resort, 
now organized what he called " Repeal breakfasts. " " If the 
government, " said he, " think fit to proclaim down breakfasts, 
then we will resort to a political lunch. If the luncheon be 
equally dangerous to the peace of the great duke (the vice- 
roy), we shall have political dinners. If the dinners be pro- 
claimed down, we must, like certain sanctified dames, resort 
to ' tea and tracts. ' " The breakfasts %vcre *' proclaimed. " 
but, in defiance of the proclamation, went on as usual. 
Whereupon O'Connell was arrested and held to bail to await 
his trial. He was not daunted. " Were I fated to-morrow," 
said he, " to ascend the scaffold or go down to the grave, I 
should bequeath to my children eternal hatred of the Union. " 

The prosecution was subsequently abandoned, and soon 
afterwards it became plain that O'Connell had been persuad- 
ed by the English reform leaders that the question for Ire- 
land was what they called " the great cause of reform," — and 
that from a reformed parliament Ireland would obtain full 
justice. Accordingly he flung himself heartily into the ranks 
of the English reformers. Reform was carried ; and almost 
the first act of the reformed parliament was to pass a Coer- 
cion Bill for Ireland more atrocious than an}' of its numerous 
predecessors ! 

All the violence of the English tories had failed to shake 
O'Connell. The blandishments of the whigs fared otherwise. 



548 THE STORY OF IKELAND. 

" Union with English liberals" — union with ''the great lib- 
eral party" — was now made to appear to him the best hope 
of Ireland. To yoke this giant to the whig chariot, the whig 
leaders were willing to pay a high price. Place, pension, 
emolument to any extent, O'Connell might have had from 
them at will. The most lucrative and exalted posts — positions 
in which he and all his family might have lived and died in 
ease and affluence — were at his acceptance. But O'Connell 
was neither corrupt nor selfish, though in his alliance with 
the whigs he exhibited a lack of his usual firmness and per- 
spicuity. He would accept nothing for himself, but he de- 
manded the nomination in great part of the Irish executive, 
and a veto on the selection of a viceroy. The terms were 
granted, and it is unquestioned and unquestionable that the 
Irish executive thus chosen — the administration of Lord Mul- 
grave — was the only one Ireland had known for nigh two hun- 
dred years — the first, and the only one in the present cen- 
tury — that possessed the confidence and commanded the re- 
spect, attachment, and sympathy of the Irish people. 

•' Men, not vicasures, " however, was the sum total of ad- 
vantage O'Connell found derivable from his alliance with the 
great liberal party. Excellent appointments were made, and 
numerous Catholics were, to the horror of the Orange fac- 
tion, placed in administrative positions throughout the coun- 
try. But this modicum of good (which had, moreover, as we 
shall see, its counterbalancing evil) did not, in O'Connell esti- 
mation, compensate for the inability or indisposition of the 
administration to pass adequate remedial vicasiires for the 
country. He had given the Union system a fair trial under 
its most favorable circumstances, and the experiment only 
taught him that in Home Rule alone could Ireland hope for 
just or protective government. 

Impelled by this conviction, on the 15th April, 1840, he es- 
tablished the Loyal National Repeal Association, a body 
destined to play an important part in Irish politics. 

The new association was a very weak and unpromising 
project for some time. Men were not, at first, convinced that 
O'Connell was in earnest. Moreover, the evil that eventually 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 549 

tended so much to ruin the association, was now, even in its 
incipient stages, beginning to be felt. The appointment by 
government of popular leaders to places of emolument — an 
apparent boon — a flattering concession, as it seemed, to the 
spirit of emancipation — opened up to the administration an 
entirely new field of action in their designs against any em- 
barrassing popular movement. O'Connell himself was a 
tower of personal and public integrity, but amongst his sub- 
ordinates were men who by no means possessed his adaman- 
tine virtue. It was only when the Melbourne (whig) minis- 
try fell, and the Peel (tory) ministry came into power, that 
(government places for Catholic agitators being no longer in 
the market) the full force of his old following rallied to O'Con- 
nell's side in his repeal campaign. It would have been well 
for Ireland, if most of them had never taken such a step. 
Some of them were at best instrinsically rude, and, almost 
worthless, intruments, whom O'Connell in past days had been 
obliged in sheer necessity to use. Others of them, of a better 
stamp, had had their day of usefulness and virtue, but now it 
was gone. Decay, physical and moral, had set in. A new 
generation was just stepping into manhood, with severer ideas 
of personal and public morality, with purer tastes and loftier 
ambitions, with more intense and fiery ardor. Yet there were 
also amongst the adherents of the great tribune, some who 
brought to the repeal cause a fidelity not to be surpassed, 
integrity beyond price, ability of the highest order ; and a 
matured experience, in which, of course, the new growth of 
men were entirely deficient. 

In three years the movement for national autonomy swell- 
ed into a magnitude that startled the world. Never did a 
nation so strikingly manifest its will. About three million of 
associates paid yearly towards the repeal association funds. 
As many more were allied to the cause by sympathy. Meet- 
ings to petition against the Union were at several places 
attended by six hundred thousand persons; by eight hundred 
thousand at two places ; and by nearly a million at one — Tara 
hill. All these gigantic demonstrations, about forty in num- 
ber, were held without the slightest accident, or the slightest 



550 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

infringement of the peace. Order, sobriety, respect for the 
laws, were the watchwords of the milHons. England was 
stripped of the slightest chance of deceiving the world as to 
the nature of her relations with Ireland. The people of Israel, 
with one voice, besought Pharaoh to let them go free ; but 
the heart of Pharaoh was hard as stone. 

O'Connell was not prepared for the obduracy of tyrannic 
strength which he encountered. So completely was he im- 
pressed with the conviction that the ministry must yield to 
the array of an almost unanimous people, that in 1843 he 
committed himself to a specific promise and solemn under- 
taking that within " six months" repeal would be an accom- 
plished fact. 

This fatal promise — the gigantic error of his life — suggested 
to the minister the sure means to eflfect the overthrow of 
O'Connell and his movement. To break the spell of his magic 
influence over the people— to destroy their hitherto unshaken 
confidence in him — to publicly discredit his most solemn and 
formal covenant with them — (that if they would but keep the 
peace and obey his instructions, he would as surely as the sun 
shone on them, obtain repeal within six months) — it was now 
necessary merely to hold out for six or twelve months longer, 
and by some bold stroke, even at the risk of a civil war, to 
fall upon O'Connell and his colleagues with all the rigors of 
the law, and publicly degrade them. 

This daring and dangerous scheme Peel carried out. 
First he garrisoned the country with an overwhelming force, 
and then, so far from yielding repeal, trampled on the con- 
stitution, challenged the people to war, prepared for a massa- 
cre at Clontarf— averted only by the utmost exertions of the 
popular leaders — and, finally, he had O'Connell and his col- 
leagues publicly arraigned, tried, and convicted as conspira- 
tors, and dragged to jail as criminals. 

O'Connell's promise was defeated. His spell was broken 
from that hour. All the worse for England. 

AH the worse for England, as crime is always, even where 
It wins present advantage, all the worse for those who avail 
of it. For, what had England done? Here was a man, the 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 551 

corner-stones of whose policy, the first principles of whose 
pubHc teaching, were — loyalty, firm and fervent, to the throne ; 
respect, strict and scrupulous, for the laws ; confidence in the 
prevalence of reasoning force ; reliance, complete and exclu- 
sive, upon the efficacy of peaceful, legal, and constitutional 
action. 

Yet this was the man whom England prosecuted as a con- 
spirator f These were the teachings she punished with fine 
and imprisonment! 

The Irish people, through O'Connell, had said to England: 
" Let us reason this question. Let there be an end to resort 
to force." England answered by a flourish of the mailed hand. 
She would have no reasoning on the subject. She pointed to 
her armies and fleets, her arsenals and dockyards, her shotted 
gun and whetted sabre. 

In that hour a silent revolution was wrought in the popular 
mind of Ireland. Up to that moment a peaceable, an amica- 
ble, a friendly settlement of the question between the two 
countries, was easy enough. But now ! 

The law lords in the British house of peers, by three votes 
to two, decided that the conviction of O'Connell and his col- 
leagues was wrongful. Every one knew that. There was 
what the minister judged to be a " state necessity" for show- 
ing that the government could and would publicly defy and 
degrade O'Connell by conviction and imprisonment, innocent 
or guilty ; and as this had been triumphantly accomplished, 
Peel cared not a jot that the full term of punishment was 
thus cut short. O'Connell left his prison cell a broken man. 
Overwhelming demonstrations of unchanged affection and 
personal attachment poured in upon him from his country- 
men. Their faith in his devotion to Ireland was increased a 
hundred fold, but their faith in the efficacy of his policy, or 
the surety of his promises, was gone. 

He himself saw and felt it, and marking the effect the gov- 
ernment course had wrought upon the new generation of 
Irishmen, he was troubled in soul. England had dared them 
to grapple with her power. He trembled at the thought of what 
the result might be in years to come. Already the young 



552 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

crop of Irish manhood had become recognizable as a distinct 
political element — a distinct school of thought and action. 
At the head of this party blazed a galaxy of genius — Poets, 
Orators, Scholars, Writers, and Organizers. It was the party 
of Youth with its generous impulses, its roseate hopes, its 
classic models, its glorious daring, its pure devotion. The 
old man feared the issue between this hot blood and the cold 
stern tyranny that had shown its disregard for law and 
conscience. Age was now heavily upon him, and, moreover, 
there were those around him full of jealousy against the 
young leaders of the Irish Gironde — full of envy of their 
brilliant genius, their public fame, their popular influence. 
The gloomiest forebodings arose to the old man's mind, or 
were sedulously conjured up before it by those who surround- 
ed him. 

Soon a darker shade came to deepen the gloom that 
was settling on the horizon of his future. Famine — terrible 
and merciless — fell upon the land. Or rather, one crop, out 
of the many grown on Irish soil — that one on which the 
masses of the people fed — perished ; and it became plain the 
government would let the people perish too. In 1846 the 
long spell of conservative rule came to a close, and the whigs 
came into office. Place was once more to be had by facile 
Catholic agitators , and now the Castle backstairs was liter- 
ally thronged with the old hacks of Irish agitation, filled with 
a fine glowing indignation against those "purists" of the new 
school who denied that it was a good thing to have friends in 
office. Here was a new source of division between the old 
and new elements in Irish popular politics. O'Connell him- 
self was as far as ever from bending to the acceptance of per- 
sonal favor from the government ; but some of his near relatives 
and long-time colleagues or subordinates in agitation were one 
by one being "placed" by the Viceroy, amidst fierce invec- 
tives from the "Young Ireland" party as they were called. 

All these troubles seemed to be shaking from its foundations 
the mind of the old Tribune, who every day sunk more and 
more into the hands of his personal adherents. He became 
at length fully persuaded of the necessity of fettering the 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 553 

young party. He framed a test declaration for members of 
the association, repudiating, disclaiming, denouncing, and 
abhorring the use of physical force under any possible circum- 
stances or in any age or country. This monstrous absurdity 
showed that the once glorious intellect of O'Connell was 
gone. In his constant brooding over the dangers of an insurrec- 
tion in which the people would be slaughtered like sheep, he 
struck upon this resort, apparently unable to see that it was 
opposed to all his own past teaching and practice— nay, 
opposed to all law, human and divine, that it would conserve 
and enthrone the most iniquitous tyrannies, and render man 
the abject slave of power. 

The young party offered to take this test as far as related 
to t\v& present or \\\Q future of Ireland; but they refused to 
stigmatize the patriot brave of all history, who had bled and 
died for liberty. This would not suffice, and the painful fact 
became clear enough that the monstrous test resolutions were 
meant to drive them from the association. On the 27th of July, 
1846, the Young Ireland leaders, refusing a test which was a 
treason against truth, justice, and liberty, quitted Conciliation 
Hall, and Irish Ireland was rent into bitterly hostile parties. 

Not long afterwards the insidious disease, the approach of 
which was proclaimed clearly enough in O'Connell's recent 
proceedings — softening of the brain — laid the old chieftain 
low. He had felt the approach of dissolution, and set out on 
a pilgrimage that had been his lifelong dream — a visit to 
Rome. And assuredly a splendid welcome awaited him 
there ; the first Catholic Layman in Europe, the Emancipator 
of seven millions of Catholics, the most illustrious Christian 
patriot of his age. But heaven decreed otherwise. A 
brighter welcome in a better land awaited the toil-worn sol- 
dier of faith and fatherland. At Marseilles, on his way to 
Rome, it became clear that a crisis was at hand ; yet he would 
fain push onward for the Eternal city. In Genoa the Superb 
he breathed his last; bequeathing, with his dying breath, his 
body to Ireland, his heart to Rome, his soul to God. All 
Christendom was plunged into mourning. The world poured 
its homage of respect over his bier. Ireland, the land for which 



554 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

he had lived and labored, gave him a funeral nobly befitting 
his title of Uncrowned Monarch. But more honoring than 
funeral pageant, more worthy of his memory, was the abid- 
ing grief that fell upon the people who had loved him with 
such a deep devotion. 

V un 

LXXXV. — HOW THE HORRORS OF THE FAMINE HAD THEIR EF- 
FECT ON IRISH POLITICS. HOW THE FRENCH REVOLUTION 
SET EUROPE IN A FLAME. HOW IRELAND MADE A VAIN AT- 
TEMPT AT INSURRECTION. 

t MIDST the horrors of " Black Forty-seven," the reason 
: of strong men gave way in Ireland. The people lay 
dead in hundreds on the highways and in the fields. 
'^ a) There was food in abundance in the countr}' ; * but 
the government said it should not be touched, unless in ac- 
cordance with the teachings of Adam Smith and the " laws of 
political economy." 

The mechanism of an absentee government utterly broke 
down, even in carrying out its own tardy and inefficient 
measures. The charity of the English people towards the 
end, generously endeavored to compensate for the inefficiency 
or the heartlessness of the government. But it could not be 
done. The people perished in thousands. Ireland was one 
huge charnel pit. 

It is not wonderful that amidst scenes like these some pas- 
sionate natures burst into rash resolves. Better, they cried, the 
people died bravely with arms in their hands, ridding them- 
selves of such an imbecile rlgiuic ; better Ireland were reduced 
to a cinder, than endure the horrible physical and moral ruin 
being wrought before men's eyes. The daring apostle of 
these doctrines was John Mitchel. Men called him mad. 



* The corn exported from Ireland that year would alone, it is computed, have suf- 
ficed to feed a larger population. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 555- 

Well might it have been so. Few natures like his could have 
calmly looked on at a people perishing— rotting away —under 
the hands of blundering and incompetent, if not callous and 
heartless foreign rulers. But he protested he was " not mad, 
most noble Festus." An unforeseen circumstance came to 
the aid of the phrensied leader. In February, 1848, the peo- 
ple rose in the streets of Paris, and in three days' struggle 
pulled down one of the strongest military governments in 
Europe. All the continent burst into a flame. North, south, 
east and west, the people rose, thrones tottered, and rulers 
fell. Once again the blood of Ireland was turned to fire. 
What nation of them all, it was asked, had such maddening 
wrongs as Ireland ? While all around her were rising in ap- 
peals to the god of battles, was she alone to crouch and whine 
like a beggar ? Was England stronger than other govern- 
ments that now daily crumbled at the first shock of conflict ? 
Even a people less impulsive and hot-blooded than the 
Irish would have been powerless to withstand these incite- 
ments. The Young Ireland leaders had almost unanimously 
condemned Mitchel's policy when first it had been preached ; 
but this new state of things was too much for them. They 
were swept off their feet by the fierce billows of popular ex- 
citement. To resist the cry for war was deemed " cowardly." 
Ere long even the calmest of the Young Ireland chiefs yielded 
to the epidemic, and became persuaded that the time at length 
had come when Ireland might safely and righteously appeal 
for justice to God and her own strong right arm. 

Alas ! all this was the fire of fever in the blood, not the 
strength of health, in that wasted famine-stricken nation ! 

Nevertheless, the government was filled with alarm. It 
fell upon the popular leaders with savage fury. Mitchel was 
the first victim. He had openly defied government to the 
issue. He had openly said and preached that English govern- 
ment was murdering the people, and ought to be swept away 
at once and for ever. So prevalent was this conviction— at 
all events its first proposition*— in Ireland at the time, that 

So distressingly obvious was the callousness of the government to the horrors of 
the famine— so inhuman its policy in declaring that the millions should perish rather 



556 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

the government felt that according to the rules of fair consti- 
tutional procedure, Mitchel would be sustained in a court of 
justice. That is to say, a" jury of hiscountrymen"/<3'z>/yem- 
pannelled, would, considering all the circumstances, declare 
him a patriot, not a criminal. So the government was fain to 
collect twelve of its own creatures, or partizans, and send 
them into a jury box to convict him in imitation of a "trial." 
Standing in the dock where Emmet stood half a century before, 
he gloried in the sacrifice he was about to consummate for 
Ireland, and like another Scaevola, told his judges that three 
hundred comrades were ready to dare the same fate. The 
court rang with shouts from the crowding auditors, that each 
one and all were ready to follow him — that not three hundred, 
iDut three hundred thousand, were his companions in the 
" crime" of which he stood convicted. Before the echoes had 
quite died away in Green Street, John Mitchel, loaded with 
irons, was hurried on board a government transport ship, 
and carried off into captivity. 

He had not promised all in vain. Into his vacant place 
there now stepped one of the most remarkable men — one of 
the purest and most devoted patriots — Ireland ever produced. 
Gentle and guileless as a child, modest and retiring, disliking 
turmoil, and naturally averse to violence, his was, withal, 
true courage, and rarest, noblest daring. This was "John 
jNIartin, of Loughorne," a Presbyterian gentleman of Ulster, 
who now, quitting the congenial tranquillity and easy in- 
dependence of his northern home, took his place, all calmly, 
but lion-hearted, in the gap of danger. He loved peace, but 
he loved truth, honor, and manhood, and he hated tyranny, 
and was ready to give his life for Ireland. He now as boldlv 
as Mitchel proclaimed that the English usurpation was 
murderous in its result, and hateful to all just men. Martin 
was seized also, and like Mitchel, was denied real trial by 
jury. He was brought before twelve government partizans 



than the corn market should be " disturbed " by the action of the State — that coron- 
ers' juries in several places, empannelled in the cases of famine victims, found as 
their verdict, on oath, " Wilful murder against Lord John Russel " (the premier) 
and his fellow cabinet ministers. 





P?T^:^^^yt^ , 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 557 

selected for the purpose, convicted, sentenced, and hurried 
off in chains. 

Seizures and convictions now multiplied rapidly. The 
people would have risen in insurrection immediately on 
Mitchel's conviction, but for the exhortations of other leaders, 
who pointed out the ruin of such a course at a moment when 
the food question alone would defeat them. In harvest, it 
was resolved on all sides to take the field, and the interval 
was to be devoted to energetic prepaiation. 

But the government was not going to permit this choice of 
time nor this interval of preparation. In the last week of 
June a bill to suspend the Habeas Corpus Act was suddenly 
hurried through parliament, and the Young Ireland leaders, 
scattered through the country in the work of organization, 
taken utterly by surprise, and without opportunity or time 
for communication or concert, were absolutely flung into the 
field. 

The result was what might be expected : no other result 
was possible, as human affairs are ordinarily determined. 
An abortive rising took place in Tipperary, and once more 
some of the purest, the bravest, and the best of Irishmen were 
fugitives or captives for " the old crime of their race" — high 
treason against England. 

The leader in this movement was William Smith O'Brien, 
brother of the present Earl of Inchiquin, and a lineal de- 
scendant of the victor of Clontarf. Like some other of the 
ancient families of Ireland of royal lineage, O'Brien's had, 
generations before his time, become completely indentified. 
with the Anglo-Irish nobility in political and religious faith. 
He was, therefore, by birth an aristocrat, and was by early 
education a *' conservative" in politics. But he had a 
thoroughly Irish heart withal, and its promptings, seconded 
by the force of reason, brought him in 1844 into the ranks of 
the national movement. This act — the result of pure self- 
sacrificing conviction and sense of duty — sundered all the 
ties of his past life, and placed him in utter antagonism with 
his nearest and dearest relatives and friends. He was a man 
endowed with all the qualities of soul that truly ennoble 



558 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

humanity ; a lofty integrity, a proud dignity, a perfect ina- 
bility, so to speak, to fall into an ignoble or unworthy thought 
or action. Unfriendly critics called him haughty, and said he 
was proud of his family ; and there was a proportion of 
truth in the charge. But it was not a failing to blush 
for, after all, and might well be held excusable in a scion of 
the royal house of Thomond, filled with the glorious spirit 
of his ancestors. 

Such was the man — noble by birth, fortune, education, and 
social and public position — who, towards the close of 1848, 
lay in an Irish dungeon awaiting the fate of the Irish patriot 
who loves his country " not wisely but too well." 

In those days the Irish peasantry — the wreck of that splen- 
did population, which a few years before were matchless in 
the world — were enduring all the pangs of famme, or the 
humiliations of " out-door " pauper life. Amidst this starving 
peasantry scores of political fugitives were now scattered, 
pursued by all the rigors of the government, and with a price 
set on each head. Not a man — not one — of the proscribed 
patriots who thus sought asylum amidst the people was 
betrayed. The starving peasant housed them, sheltered 
them, shared with them his own scanty meal, guarded them 
while they slept, and guided them safely on their way. 
He knew that hundreds of pounds were on their heads but he 
shrank as from perdition from the thought of selling for blood- 
money men whose crime was that they had dared and lost all 
for poor Ireland.* 

Dillon, Doheny, and O'Gorman, made good their escape to 
America. O'Brien, Meagher, and Mac Manus, were sent 



* This devotedness, this singular fidelity, was strikingly illustrated in the conduct 
of some Tipperary peasants brought forward compulsorily by the crown as witnesses 
on the trial of Smith O'Brien for high treason. They were marched in between files 
of bayonets. The crown were aware that they could supply the evidence required and 
they were now called upon to give it. One and all they refused to give evidence. 
One and all they made answer to the warnings of the court that such refusal would be 
punished by lengthened imprisonment: — " Take us out and shoot us if you like, inil 
a ivord 'we rvon t s%vear agaitist the noble gentleman in the dock." The threathened 
punishment was inflicted, and was borne without flinching. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 559 

to follow Mitchel, Martin, and O'Doherty into the convict 
chain-gangs of Van Diemen's Land. One man alone came 
scathless, as by miracle, out of the lions' den of British law ; 
Gavan Duffy, the brain of the Young Ireland party. TJircc 
times he was brought to the torture of trial, each time defying 
his foes as proudly as if victory had crowned the venture of his 
colleagues. Despite packing of juries, the crown again and 
again failed to obtain a verdict against him, and at length had 
to let him go free. "Free" — but broken and ruined in health 
and fortune, yet not in hope. 

Thus fell that party whose genius won the admiration of 
the world, the purity of whose motives, the chivalry of whose 
actions, even their direst foes confessed. They were wreck- 
ed in a hurricane of popular enthusiasm, to which they fatal- 
ly spread sail. It is easy for us now to discern and declare 
the huge error into which they were impelled — the error of 
meditating an insurrection — the error of judging that a fam- 
ishing peasantry, unarmed and undisciplined, could fight and 
conquer England at peace with all the world. But it is al- 
ways easy to be wise after the fact. At the time — in the 
midst of that delirium of excitement, of passionate resolve and 
sanguine hope — it was not easy for generous natures to choose 
and determine otherwise than as they did. The verdict of 
public opinion — the judgment of their own country — the judg- 
ment of the world — has done them justice. It has proclaimed 
their unwise course, the error of noble, generous, and self- 
sacrificinsT men. 




560 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

/ 

LXXXVI. — HOW THE IRISH EXODUS CAME ABOUT, AND THE 
ENGLISH PRESS GLOATED OVER THE ANTICIPATED EX- 
TIRPATION OF THE IRISH RACE. 

^ IGHTEEN hundred and forty-nine found Ireland in a 
plight as wretched as had been hers for centuries. A 
vear before, intoxicated with hope, delirious with en- 
/iJ thusiasm — now, she endured the sickening miseries of a 
fearful reaction. She had vowed daring deeds — deeds be3'ond 
her strength — and now, sick at heart, she looked like one who 
wished for death's relief from a lot of misery and despair. 
Political action was utterly given up. No political organiza- 
tion of any kind survived Mr. Birch and Lord Clarendon. 
There was not even a whisper to disturb the repose of the 
'Jailer-General :' — 

Etcii he, the tyrant Arab, slept ; 
Calm while a nation round him wept.* 

The parliament, for the benefit of the English people, had 
recently abohshed the duty on imported foreign corn. Pre- 
viousl}' Ireland had grown corn extensively for the English 
market ; but now% obliged to compete with corn-growing 
countries where the land was not weighted with such oppres- 
sive rents as had been laid on and exacted in Ireland under 
the old svstem, the Irish farmer found himself ruined by ''til- 
lage" or grain-raising. Coincidently came an increased demand 
for cattle to supply the English meat-market. Corn might be 
safely and cheaply brought to England from even the most 
distant climes, but cattle could not. Ireland was close at hand, 
destined by nature, said one British statesman, to grow meat 
for " our great hives of human industry ;" "clearly intended by 
Providence," said another, "to be the fruitful mother of flocks 



* /risA Political Associations. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 563 

and herds." That is to say, if high rents cannot be paid in 
Ireland by growing corn, in consequence of "free trade," they 
can by raising cattle. 

But turning a country from £-ram-ra.ismg to m^/Z?- raising 
meant the annihilation of the agricultural population. For 
bullock-ranges and sheep-runs needed the consolidation of 
farms and the sweeping away of the human occupants. Two 
or three herdsmen or shepherds would alone be required 
throughout miles of such "ranges" and "runs," where, under 
the tillage system thousands of peasant families found employ- 
ment and lived in peaceful contentment. 

Thus, cleared-farms came to be desirable with the landlords. 
For, as a consequence of "free-trade," either the old rents must 
be abandoned, or the agricultural population be swept away e;i 
masse. 

Then was witnessed a monstrous proceeding. In 1846 
and 1847 — the famine years — while the people lay perishing, 
the land lay wasted. Wherever seed was put in the ground, 
the hunger-maddened victims rooted it out and ate it raw. 
No crops were raised, and of course no rents were paid. In 
any other land on earth the first duty of the state would be 
to remit, or compound with the land owners for any claims 
advanced for the rents of those famine years. But alas ! in 
cruelties of oppression endured, Ireland is like no other coun- 
try in the world. With the permission, concurrence, and 
sustainment of the government, the landlords now commenced 
to demand what they called the arrears of rent for the past 
three years ! And then— the object for which this monstrous 
demand was made — failing payment, "notices to quit" by the 
thousand carried the sentence of expulsion through the home- 
steads of the doomed people ! The ring of the crowbar, the 
crash of the falling roof-tree, the shriek of the evicted, flung 
on the road-side to die, resounded all over the island. Thou- 
sands of families, panic-stricken, did not wait for receipt of 
the dread mandate at their own door. With breaking hearts 
they quenched the hearth, and bade eternal farewell to the 
scenes of home, flying in crowds to the Land of Liberty in 
the West. The streams of fugritives swelled to dimensions 



564 THE STORY OF IRELAND, 

that startled Christendom ; but the English press burst into a 
poean of joy and triunnph : for now at last the Irish question 
would be settled. Now at last England would be at ease. 
Now at last this turbulent, disaffected, untameable race would 
be cleared out. "In a short time," said the Times, "^ Catholic 
Celt will be as rare in Ireland as a Red Indian on the shores of 
Matihattati.'' 

Their own countrymen who remained — their kindred — their 
own flesh and blood — their pastors and prelates — could not 
witness unmoved this spectacle, unexampled in history, the' 
flight eji masse of a population from their own beautiful land, 
not as adventurous emigrants, but as heart-crushed victims of 
expulsion. Some voices, accordingly, were raised to deplore 
this calamity — to appeal to England, to warn her that evil 
would come of it in the future. But as England did not see 
this — did not see it then — she turned heartlessly from the ap- 
peal, and laughed scornfully at the warning. There were 
philosopher statesmen ready at hand to argue that the flying 
thousands were '■'surplus population^ This was the cold- 
blooded official way of expressing it. The English press, 
however, went more directly to the mark. They called the 
sorrowing cavalcade wending their way to the emigrant ship, 
a race of assassins, creatures of superstition, laz}', ignorant, 
and brutified. Farin the progress of this exodus — even long 
after some of its baleful effects began to be felt — the London 
Sattirday Revieiv answered in the following language to a very 
natural expression of sympathy and grief wrung from an Irish 
prelate witnessing the destruction of his people : — 

"The Lion of St. Jarlath's surveys with an envious eye the 
Irish exodus, and sighs over the departing demons of assassination 
and murder. So complete is the rusJi of departing marauders, 
tuhose lives zve-^e profitably oeeupied in shooting Protestants from 
behind a hedge, that silence reigns over the vast solitude of Ire- 
land.^ 

Pnofes might be filled with extracts of a like nature from 
the press of England ; many still more coarse and brutal. 

^ Saturday Review, 28th Nov., 1863. 



THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 5C5 

There may, probably, be some Englishmen who now wish 
such language had not been used ; that such blistering libels 
had not been rained on a departing people, to nourish in their 
hearts the terrible vow of vengeance with which they landed 
on American shores. But tJien — in that hour, when it seemed 
safe to be brutal and merciless — the grief-stricken, thrust-out 
people 

" Found not a generous friend, a pitying foe." 

And so they went into banishment in thousands and tens of 
thousands, with hands uplifted to the just God who saw all 
this ; and they cried aloud, Qiiotisqiie Domine ? Qiiousqiie ? 

An effort was made in Ireland to invoke legislative remedy 
for the state of things which was thus depopulating the 
country. A parliamentary party was formed to obtain some 
measure of protection for the agricultural population. For 
even where no arrears — for " famine years," or any other 
vears — were due, even where the rent was paid to the day, 
the landlords stepped in, according to law, swept off the ten- 
ant, and confiscated his property. To terminate this shock- 
ing system, to secure from such robbery the property of the 
tenant, while strictly protecting that of the landlord, it was 
resolved to press for an Act of Parliament. 

At vast sacrifices the suffering people, braving the anger of 
their landlords, returned to the legislature a number of repre- 
sentatives pledged to their cause. But the English minister, 
as if bent on teaching Irishmen to despair of redress by con- 
stitutional agencies, resisted those most just and equitable 
demands, and deliberately set himself to corrupt and break up 
that party. To humiliate and exasperate the people more 
and more, to mock them and insult them, the faithless men who 
had betrayed them were set over them as judges and rulers. 
And when, by means as nefarious as those that had carried 
the union, this last attempt of the Irish people to devote them- 
selves to peaceful and constitutional action was baffled, defeat- 
ed, trampled down, when the " Tenant League" had been 
broken up, and its leaders scattered — when Gavan Duffy had 
been driven into despairing exile, when Lucas had been sent 



566 THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 

broken-hearted into the grave, and Moore, the intrepid leader, 
the unequalled orator, had been relegated to private life, a 
shout of victory again went up from the press of England, as 
if a Trafalgar had been won. 







LXXXVII. — HOW SOME IRISHMEN TOOK TO "THE POLITICS OF 
DESPAIR." HOW ENGLAND'S REVOLUTIONARY TEACHINGS 
"CAME HOME TO ROOST." HOW GENERAL JOHN O'NEILL 
GAVE COLONEL BOOKER A TOUCH OF FONTENOY AT RIDGE- 
WAY. 

LL may deplore, but none can wonder, that under cir- 
1^ cumstances such as those, a considerable section of 
the Irish people should have lent a ready ear to " the 
^^^ politics of despair. 

In vain the hero's heart had bled, 
The sage's voice had warned in vain. 

In the face of all the lessons of history they would conspire 
anew, and dream once more of grappling with England on 
the battlefield! 

They were in the mood to hearken to any proposal, no mat- 
ter how wild ; to dare any risk, no matter how great ; to follow 
any man, no matter whom he might be, promising to lead them 
to vengeance. Such a proposal presented itself in the shape 
of a conspiracy, an oath-bound secret society, designated the 
"Fenian Brotherhood," which made its appearance about this 
time. The project was strenuously reprehended by every one 
of the " Forty-eight " leaders with scarcely an exception, and 
by the Catholic clergy universally; in other words, by every 
patriotic influence in Ireland not reft of reason by despair. 
The first leaders of the conspiracy were not men well recom- 
mended to Irish confidence, and in the venomous manner in 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 567 

which they assailed all who endeavored to dissuade the people 
from their plot, they showed that they had not only copied 
the forms, but imbibed the spirit of the continental secret so- 
cieties. But the maddened people were ready to follow and 
worship any leader whose project gave voice to the terrible 
passions surging in their breasts. They were ready to believe 
in him in the face of all warning, and at his bidding to distrust 
and denounce friends and guides whom, ordinarily, they 
would have followed to the death. 

In simple truth the fatuous conduct of England had so 
prepared the soil and sown the seed, that the conspirator had 
but to step in and reap the crop. In 1843 she had answered 
to the people that their case ivoiild not be listened to. To the 
peaceful and amicable desire of Ireland to reason the questions 
at issue, England answered in the well-remembered words of 
the Times: '' Repeal must not be argued withy — '^ If the Union 
were gall it must be maintainedy In other words, England, 
unable to rely on the weight of any other argument, flung 
the sword into the scale, and cried out : " Vse Victis ! " 

In the same year she showed the Irish people that loyalty 
to the throne, respect for the laws, and reliance exclusively 
on moral force, did not avail to save them from violence. 
When O' Connell was dragged to jail as a "conspirator" — a 
man notoriously the most loyal, peaceable, and law-respect- 
ing in the land — the people unhappily seemed to conclude 
that they might as well be real conspirators, for any distinc- 
tion England would draw between Irishmen pleading the just 
cause of their country. 

But there was yet a further reach of infatuation, and ap- 
parently England was resolved to leave no incitement unused 
in driving the Irish upon the poHcy of violence — of hate and 
hostility implacable. 

At the very time when the agents of the secret society 
were preaching to the Irish people the doctrines of revolution, 
the English press resounded with like teachings. The sovereign 
and her ministers proclaimed them ; parliament reechoed 
them ; England with unanimous voice shouted them aloud. 
The right, nay, the duty of a people considering themselves, 



568 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

or fancying themselves, oppressed, to conspire and revolt 
against their rulers — even native and legitimate rulers — was 
day by day thundered forth by the English journals. Yet 
more than this. The most blistering taunts were flung against 
peoples who, fancying themselves oppressed, hope to be 
righted by any means save by conspiracy, revolt, war, blood- 
shed, eternal resistance and hostility. " Let all such peoples 
know," wrote the Times^ that " liberty is a thing to be foiight oiit 
xvith knives and swords and hatchet si* 

To be sure these general propositions were formulated for 
the express use of the Italians at the time. So utterly had 
England's anxiety to overthrow the papacy blinded her, that 
she never once recollected that those incitements were being 
hearkened to by a hot-blooded and passionate people like the 
Irish. At the worst, however, she judged the Irish to be 
too completely cowed to dream of applying them to their own 
case. At the very moment when William Smith O'Brien was 
freely sacrificing or perilling his popularity in the endeavor 
to keep his countrymen from the revolutionary secret society, 
the Times — blind, stone-blind, to the state of the facts — blind- 
ed by intense national prejudice — assailed him truculently, as 
an antiquated traitor who could not get one man — not even one 
man — in all Ireland to share his ".crazy dream" of national 
autonomy. 

Alas ! So much for England's ability to understand the 
Irish people ! So much for her ignorance of a country which 
she insists on ruling ! 

Up to 1864 the Fenian enterprise — the absurd idea of chal- 
lenging England (or rather accepting her challenge) to a war- 
duel — strenuously resisted by the Catholic clergy and other 
patriotic influences, made comparatively little headway in Ire- 
land. In America, almost from the outset it secured large 
support. For England had filled the western continent with 
an Irish population burning for vengeance upon the power 
that had hunted them from their own land. On the termina- 
tion of the great civil war of 1861 — 1864, a vast army of Irish 
soldiers, trained, disciplined, and experienced — of valor pro- 
ven on many a well-fought field, and each man willing to cross 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 569 

the globe a hundred times for " a blow at England " — were 
disengaged from service. 

Suddenly the Irish revolutionary enterprise assumed in 
America a magnitude that startled and overwhelmed its orig- 
mators. It was no longer the desperate following of an 
autocratic chief-conspirator, blindly bowing to his nod. It 
grew into the dimensions of a great national confederation 
with an army and a treasury at its disposal. The expansion 
in America was not without a corresponding effect in Ireland ; 
but it was after all nothing proportionate. There was up to 
the last a fatuous amount of delusion maintained by the" Head 
Centre " on this side of the Atlantic, James Stephens, a man 
of marvellous subtlety and wondrous powers of plausible im- 
position ; crafty, cunning, and quite unscrupulous as to the 
employment of means to an end. However, the army ready 
to hand in America, if not utilized at once, would soon be 
melted away and gone, like the snows of past winters. So in 
the middle of 1865 it was resolved to take the field in the ap- 
proaching autumn. 

It is hard to contemplate this decision or declaration, with- 
out deeming it either insincere or wicked on the part of the 
leader or leaders, who at the moment knew the rr^/ condition 
o' affairs in Ireland. That the enrolled members, howsoever 
few. would respond when called upon, was certain at any time; 
for the Irish are not cowards ; the men who joined this des- 
perate enterprise were sure to prove themselves courageous, 
if not either prudent or wise. But the pretence of the revo- 
lutionary chief, that there was a force able to afford the 
merest chance of success, was too utterly false not to be 
plainly criminal. 

Toward the close of 1865, came almost contemporaneously 
the government swoop on the Irish revolutionary executive, 
and the deposition — after solemn judicial trial, as prescribed 
by the laws of the society — of O'Mahoney, the American 
*• Head Centre," for crimes and offences alleged to be worse 
than mere imbecility, and the election in his stead of Colonel 
William R. Roberts, an Irish-American merchant of high 
standing and honorable character, whose fortune had always 



570 THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 

generously aided Irish patriotic, charitable, or religious pur- 
poses. The deposed official, however, did not submit to the 
application of the society rules. He set up a rival association, 
a course in which he was supported by the Irish Head Centre; 
and a painful scene of factious and acrimonious contention 
between the two parties thus antagonised, caused the English 
government to hope — nay, for a moment, fully to believe — 
that the disappearance of both must soon follow. 

This hope quickly vanished when, on reliable intelligence, 
it was announced that the Irish-Americans, under the Roberts' 
presidency, were substituting for the unreal or insincere pro- 
ject of an expedition to Ireland, as the first move, the plainly 
practicable scheme of an invasion of British North America 
in the first instance. The Times at once declared that now 
indeed England had need to buckle on her armor, for that the 
adoption of this new project showed the men in America to 
be in earnest, and to have sound military judgment in their 
councils. An invasion of Ireland by the Irish in the United 
States all might-laugh at, but an invasion of Canada from the 
same quarter was quite another matter; the southern frontier 
of British North America being one impossible to defend in 
its entirety, unless by an arm}' of one hundred thousand men. 
Clearly a vulnerable point of the British empire had been dis- 
covered. 

This was a grievous hardship on the people of Canada. 
They had done no wrong to Ireland or to the Irish people. 
In Canada Irishmen had found friendly asylum, liberty, and 
protection. It seemed, therefore, a cruel resolve to visit on 
Canada the terrible penalty of war for the offences of the pa- 
rent country. To this the reply from the confederate Irish in 
in the States was, that they would wage no war on the Can- 
adian people ; that it was only against British power their 
hostility would be exercised ; and that Canada had no right 
to expect enjoyment of all the advantages, without experienc- 
ing, on the other hand, the disadvantages of British connec- 
tion. 

It seemed very clear that England stood a serious chance of 
losing her North American dependencies. One hope alone 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 571 

remained. If the American government would but defend 
the frontier on its own side, and cut the invading parties from 
their base of supplies, the enterprise must naturally and in- 
evitably fail. It seemed impossible, however, that the Ameri- 
can government could be prevailed upon thus to become a 
British preventive police. During the civil war the Washing- 
ton executive, and, indeed, the universal sentiment and action 
of the American people, had plainly and expressly encouraged 
the Fenian organization ; and even so recently as the spring 
of 1866, the American government had sold to the agents of 
Colonel Roberts thousands of pounds' worth of arms and muni- 
tions of war, with the clear, though unofficial, knowledge that 
they were intended for the projected Canadian enterprise. 
Nevertheless, as we shall see, the American executive had 
no qualms about adopting an outrageously inconsistent course. 

By the month of May, 1866, Roberts had established a line 
of depots along the Canadian frontier, and in great part 
filled them with the arms and material of war sold to him by 
the Washington government. Towards the close of the month 
the various " circles" throughout the Union received the com- 
mand to start their contingents for the frontier. Never, pro- 
bably, in Irish history was a call to the field more enthusiasti- 
cally obeyed. From every State in the Union there was a 
simultaneous movement northwards of bodies of Irishmen ; 
the most intense excitement pervading the Irish population 
from Maine to Texas. At this moment, however, the Wash- 
ington government flung off the mask. A vehement and bit- 
terly-worded proclamation called for the instantaneous aban- 
donment of the Irish projects. A powerful military force was 
marched to the northern frontier ; United States gunboats 
were posted on the lakes and on the St. Lawrence river ; all 
the arms and war material of the Irish were sought out, seized, 
and confiscated, and all the arriving contingents, on mere 
suspicion of their destination, were arrested. 

This course of proceeding fell like a thunderbolt on the 
Irish ! It seemed impossible to credit its reality ! Despite all 
those obstacles, however — a British army on one shore, an 
American army on the other, and hostile cruisers, British and 



572 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

American, guarding the waters between — one small battalion 
of the Irish under Colonel John O'Neill succeeded in crossing 
to the Canadian side on the night of the 31st May, 1866. They 
landed on British ground close to Fort Erie, which place they 
at once occupied, hauling down the royal ensign of England, 
and hoisting over Fort Erie in its stead, amidst a scene of 
boundless enthusiasm and joy, the Irish standard of green and 
gold. 

The news that the Irish were across the St. Lawrence — that 
once more, for the first time for half a century, the green flag 
waved in the broad sunlight over the serried lines of men in 
arms for " the good old cause" — sent the Irish millions in the 
States into wild excitement. In twenty-four hours fifty thou- 
sand volunteers offered for service, ready to march at an hour's 
notice. But the Washington government stopped all action 
on the part of the Irish organization. Colonel Roberts, his 
military chief officer, and other officials, were arrested, and it 
soon became plain the unexpected intervention of the Ameri- 
can executive had utterly destroyed, for the time, the Cana- 
dian project, and saved to Great Britain her North American 
colonies. 

Meanwhile O'Neill and his small force were in the enemy's 
country — in the midst of their foes. From all parts of Canada 
troops were hurried forward by rail to crush at once b}' over- 
whelming force the now isolated Irish battalion. On the morn- 
ing of the 1st of June, 1866, Colonel Booker at the head of the 
combined British force of regular infantry of the line and some 
volunteer regiments, marched against the invaders. At a 
place called Limestone Ridge, close by the village of Ridge- 
way, the advanced guard of the British found O'Neill drawn 
up in position ready for battle. The action forthwith com- 
menced. The Irish skirmishers appeared to fall back slowly 
before their assailants, a circumstance which caused the Cana- 
dian volunteer regiments to conclude hastily that the day was 
going very easily in their favor. Suddenly, however, the Irish 
skirmishers halted, and the British, to their dismay, found 
themselves face to face with the main force of the Irish, post- 
ed in a position which evidenced consummate ability on the 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 573 

part of O'Neill. Booker ordered an assault in full force on the 
Irish position, which was, however, disastrously repulsed. 
While the British commander was hesitating as to whether he 
should renew the battle, or await reinforcements reported to 
be coming up from Hamilton, his deliberations were cut short 
b}^ a shout from the Irish lines, and a cry of alarm from his own 
— the Irish were advancing to a charge. They came on with a 
wild rush and a ringing cheer, bursting through the British 
ranks. There was a short but desperate struggle, when some 
one of the Canadian officers, observing an Irish aid-de-camp 
galloping through a wood close by, thought it was a body of 
Irish horse, and raised the cry of "cavalry ! cavalry ! "Some 
of the regular regiments made a vain effort to form a square 
— a fatal blunder, there being no cavalry at hand ; others, 
however, broke into confusion, and took to flight, the general, 
Booker, it is alleged, being the fleetest of the fugitives. The 
British route soon became complete, the day was hopelessly 
lost, and the victorious Irish, with the captured British stand- 
ards in their hands, stood on Ridge way heights as proudly 
as their compeers at Fontenoy — "The field was fought and 
won." 




574 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 



.1" 



LXXXVIII. — THE UNFINISHED CHAPTER OF EIGHTEEN HUN- 
DRED AND SIXTY-SEVEN. HOW IRELAND, " OFT DOOMED TO 
DEATH," HAS SHOWN THAT SHE IS ** FATED NOT TO DIE." 

J*^ UDGED by the forces engaged, Ridgeway was an 
inconsiderable engagement. Yet the effect produced 
- ''' by the news in Canada, in the States, in England, and 
of course, most of all in Ireland, could scarcely have 
been surpassed by the announcement of a second Fontenoy. 
Irish troops had met the levies of England m pitched battle 
and defeated them. English colors, trophies of victory, were 
in the hands of an Irish general. The green flag had come 
triumphant through the storm of battle. At home and 
abroad the Irish saw only these facts, and these appeared to 
be all-sufficient for national pride. 

0*Neill, on the morrow of his victory, learned with poig- 
nant feelings that his supports and supplies had been all cut 
off by the American gun-boats. In his front the enemy were 
concentrating in thousands. Behind him rolled the St. Law- 
rence, cruised by United States war steamers. He was 
ready to fight the British, but he could not match the com- 
bined powers of Britain and America. He saw the enterprise 
was defeated hopelessly, for this time, by the action of the 
Washington executive, and, feeling that he had truly " done 
enouo-h for valor," he surrendered to the United States naval 
commander. 

This brief episode at Ridgeway was for the confederated 
Irish the one gleam to lighten the page of their history for 
t866. That page was otherwise darkened and blotted by a re- 
cord of humiliating and disgraceful exposures in connection 
with the Irish Head Centre. In autumn of that year he pro- 
ceeded to America, and finding his authority repudiated and 
his integrity doubted, he resorted to a course which it would 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 575 

be difficult to characterize too strongly. By way of attract- 
ing a following to his own standard, and obtaining a flush of 
money, he publicly announced that in the winter months close 
at hand, and before the new year dawned, he would (sealing his 
undertaking with an awful invocation of the Most High) be 
in Ireland, leading the long promised insurrection. Had this 
been a mere " intention" which might be " disappointed," it 
was still manifestly criminal thus to announce it to the British 
government, unless indeed, his resources in hand were so 
enormous as to render England's preparations a matter of in- 
difference. But it was not as an " intention" he announced it, 
and swore to it. He threatened with the most serious per- 
sonal consequences any and every man soever, who might 
dare to express a doubt that the event would come off as he 
swore. The few months remaining of the year flew by ; his 
intimate adherents spread the rumor that he had sailed for 
the scene of action, and in Ireland the news occasioned almost 
a panic. One day, towards the close of December, however, 
all New York rang with the exposure that Stephens had never 
quitted for Ireland, but was hiding from his own enraged fol- 
lowers in Brooklyn. The scenes that ensued were such as 
may well be omitted from these pages. In that bitter hour 
thousands of honest, impulsive, and self-sacrificing Irishmen 
endured the anguish of discovering that they had been de- 
ceived as never had men been before ; that an idol worshipped 
with frenzied devotion was, after all, a thing of clay. 

There was great rejoicing by the government party in Ire- 
land over this exposure of Stephens' failure. Now, at least, 
it was hoped, nay, confidently assumed, there would be an 
end of the revolutionary enterprise ! 

And now, assuredly there would have been an end of it, 
had Irish disaffection been a growth of yesterday ; or had the 
unhappy war between England and the Irish race been 
merely a passing contention, a momentary flash of excitement 
But it was not so ; and these very exposures, and scandals, 
and recriminations seemed only fated to try in the fiery ordeal 
the strength, depth, and intensity of that disaffection. 

In Ireland, where Stephens had been most implicitly be- 



576 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

lieved in, the news of this collapse — which reached early in 
1867 — filled the circles with keen humiliation. The more 
dispassionate wisely rejoiced that he had not attempted to 
keep a promise, the making of which was in itself a crime ; 
but the desire to wipe out the reproach supposed to be cast 
on the whole enrolment by his public defection became so 
overpowering, that a rising was arranged to come off simul- 
taneously all over Ireland on the 5th March, 1867. 

Of all the insensate attempts at revolution recorded in his- 
tory, this one assuredly was preeminent. The most extrava- 
gant of the ancient Fenian tales supplies nothmg more absurd. 
Theinmatesof a lunatic asylum could scarcely have produced 
a more impossible scheme. The one redeeming feature in 
the whole proceeding was the conduct of the hapless men 
who engaged in it. Firstly, their courage in responding to 
such a summons at all, unarmed and unaided as they were. 
Secondly, their intense religious feeling. On the days imme- 
diately preceding the 5th March, the Catholic churches were 
crowded by the youth of the country, making spiritual pre- 
parations for what they believed would be a struggle in 
which many would fall and few survive. Thirdly, their noble 
humanity to the prisoners whom they captured, their scrupu- 
lous regard for private property, and their earnest anxiety to 
carry on their struggle without infraction in aught of the laws 
and rules of honorable warfare. 

In the vicinity of Dublin, and in Tipperary, Cork, and 
Limerick counties, attacks were made on the police stations, 
several of which were captured by or surrendered to the in- 
surgents. But a circumstance as singular as any recorded 
in history, intervened to suppress the movement more effect- 
ually than the armies and fleets of England ten times told 
cculd do. On the next night following the rising — the 6th 
March — there commenced a snowstorm which will long be 
remembered in Ireland, as it was probably without precedent 
in our annals. For twelve days and nights without intermis- 
sion, a tempest of snow and sleet raged over the land, piling 
snow to the depth of yards on all the mountains, streets, and 
highways. The plan of the insurrection evidently had for its 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 577 

chief feature desultory warfare in the mountain districts, but 
this intervention of the elements utterly frustrated the project, 
and saved Ireland from the horrors of a protracted struggle. 
The last episode of the "rising" was one, the immediate 
and remote effects of which on public feeling were of aston- 
ishing magnitude, — the capture and death of Peter O'Neill 
Crowley in Kilclooney Wood, near Mitchelstown. Crowley 
was a man highly esteemed, widely popular, and greatly 
loved in the neighborhood ; a man of respectable position, and 
of good education, and of character so pure and life so blame- 
less, that the peasantry revered him almost as a saint. 
Towards the close of March, the government authorities had 
information that some of the leaders in the late risinof were 
concealed in Kilclooney Wood, and it was surrounded with 
military, " beating " the copse for the human game. Suddenly 
they came on Crowley and two comrades, and a bitter fusil- 
lade proclaimed the discovery. The fugitives defended them- 
selves bravely, but eventually Crowley was shot down, and 
brought a corpse into the neighboring town. Around his neck 
(inside his shirt) hung a small silver crucifix and a medal of the 
Immaculate Conception. A bullet had struck the latter, 
and dinged it into a cup shape. Another had struck 
the crucifix. It turned out that the fugitives, during their 
concealment in the wood, under Crowley's direction, never 
omitted compliance with the customary Lenten devotions. 
Every night they knelt around the embers of their watch-fire, 
and recited aloud the Rosary, and at the moment of their sur- 
prise by the soldiery they were at their morning prayers. 
All these circumstances — Crowley's high character, his edify- 
ing life, his tragic fate — profoundly impressed the public mind. 
While the government was felicitating itself on the "final" 
suppression of its protean foe, Irish disafifection, and the Eng- 
lish press was commencing anew the old vaunting storv 
about how Ireland's "crazy dream" of nationality had been 
dispelled for ever, a startling change, a silent revolution, was 
being wrought in the feelings, the sentiments, the resolutions 
of the Irish nation. First came compassion and sympathy ; 
then anger and indignation, soon changing into resentment 



578 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

and hostility. The people heard their abstention from the 
impossible project of " Fenianism " construed into an approba- 
tion and sustainment of the existing rule — an acceptance of 
provincialism. They heard the hapless victims of the late 
rising reviled as " ruffians," " murderers," " robbers," " marau- 
ders," animated by a desire for plunder. They knew the 
horrible falseless, the baseness and cruelty of all this, coming 
as it did too from the press of a nation ready enough to 
hound on revolutionary cut-throats abroad, while venting 
such brutality upon Irishmen like Peter O'Neill Crowley. 
Ireland could not stand tJiis. No people with a spark of manhood 
or of honor left, could be silent or neutral here. In the end pro- 
posed to themselves by those slain or captured Irishmen — the 
desire to lift their country up from her fallen state, to staunch 
her wounds, to right her wrongs — their countrymen all were 
at one with them ; and the purit}-, the virtitc of their motives 
were warmly recognized by men who had been foremost in 
reprehending the hapless course by which they had immo- 
lated themselves. For whatever disorders had arisen from 
this conspiracy, for whatever there was to reprehend in it, 
the judgment of the Irish people held English policy and 
English acts and teachings to account. For, who made 
those men conspirators ? Who taught them to look to vio- 
lence? Who challenged them to a trial of force? When 
they who had done these things now turned round on the 
victims of a noble and generous impulse, and calumniated 
them, assuredly their fellow-countrymen could not stand bv 
unmoved. And the conduct of " the men in the dock " brought 
all Ireland to their side. Never in anv age, or in any country, 
did men bear themselves in such strait more nobly than those 
Men of '6"]. They were not men to blush for. Captured at 
hazard by the government from amongst thousands, yet did 
they one and all demean themselves with a dignity, a fortitude, 
a heroism worthy of 

The holiest cause that tongue or sword 
Of mortal ever lost or gained. 

Some of them were peasants, others were professional men, 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 579 

Others were soldiers, many were artizans. Not a man of them 
all quailed in the dock. Not one of them spoke a word or 
did an act which could bring a blush to the cheek of a Christian 
patriot. Some of them — like Peter O'Neill Crowley — had 
lived stainless lives, and met their fate with the spirit of the 
first Christian martyrs. Their last words were of God and 
Ireland. Their every thought and utterance seemed an in- 
spiration of virtue, of patriotism, or of religion. As man 
after man of them was brought to his doom, and met it with 
bravery, the heart of Ireland swelled and throbbed with a 
force unknown for long years. 

Meanwhile an almost permanent court-martial was sitting 
in Dublin for the trial of soldiers charged, some with sedition, 
others simply with the utterance of patriotic sentiments ; and 
scenes which might be deemed incredible in years to come, 
had they not public witnesses and public record in the press, 
were filling to the brim the cup of public horror and indigna- 
tion. The shrieks of Irish soldiers given over to the knout, re- 
sounded almost daily. Blood-clots from the lash sprinkled 
the barrack yards all over. Many of the Irishmen thus sen- 
tenced walked to the triangle, stripped themselves for the 
torture, bore it without a groan, and, when all was finished 
— while their comrades were turning away sickened and 
fainting — cheered anew for ''poor Ireland'' or repeated the "sed- 
itious" aspiration for which they had just suffered ! 

Amidst such scenes, under such circumstances, a momentous 
transformation took place in Ireland. In the tires of such 
affliction the whole nation became fused. All minor political 
distinctions seemed to crumble or fade away, all passed con- 
tentions seemed forgotten, and only two great parties seem- 
ed to exist in the island, those who loved the regime of the 
blood-clotted lash, the penal chain, and the gibbet, and those 
who hated it. Out of the ashes of " Fenianism," out of the 
shattered debris of that insane and hopeless enterprise, arose 
a gigantic power; and eighteen hundred and sixty-seven be- 
held Irish nationality more of a visible and potential reality 
than it had been for centuries. 



580 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

Here abruptly pauses the " Story of Ireland ;" not ended, be- 
cause ''Ireland is not dead yet." Like that faith to which she 
has clung through ages of persecution, it may be said of her 
that, though " oft doomed to death," she is " fated not to 
die." 

Victory must be with her. Already it is with her. Other 
nations have bowed to the yoke of conquest, and been wiped 
out from history. Other peoples have given up the faith 
of their fathers at the bidding of the sword. Other races 
have sold the glories of their past and the hopes of their future 
for a mess of pottage ; as if there was nothing nobler in man's 
destiny than to feed, and sleep, and die. But Ireland, after 
centuries of suffering and sacrifice such as have tried no 
other nation in the world, has successfully, proudly, glorious- 
ly, defended and retained her life, her faith, her nationality. 
Well may her children, proclaiming aloud that " there is a 
God in Israel," look forward to a serene and happy future, 
beyond the tearful clouds of this troubled present. Assuredly 
a people who have survived so much, resisted so much, re- 
tained so much, are destined to receive the rich reward of 
such devotion, such constancy, such heroism. 



VALEDICTORY 



Dear Young Fellow-Countrymen, 

The Story of our Country, which I have endeavored to 
narrate for your instruction and entertainment, terminates 
here — for the present. Time as it rolls onward will always 
be adding- to its chapters. Let us hope it may be adding to 
its glories. 

The lesson which the " Story of Ireland " teaches is, Hope, 
Faith. Confidence in God. Tracing the struggles of the Irish 
people, one finds himself overpowered by the conviction that 
an all-wise Providence has sustained and preserved them as a 
nation for a great purpose, tor a glorious destiny. 

My task is done; and now I bid farewell to my young friends 
who have followed my story-telling so far. I trust I have not 
failed in the purpose, and shall not be disappointed in the 
hopes, which impelled me to this labor of love 

®od Saoc 3rcfand! 



SUPPLEMENTARY SKETCH. 




CHAPTER I. 

A YEAR OF EXCITEMENT AND ALARM. SEQUEL OF THE LAM- 
ENTABLE RISING OF 1867. THE JACKNELL EXPEDITION. 
THE MANCHESTER RESCUE. " GOD SAVE IRELAND " 

HE "unfinished chapter of 1867" still remains unfin- 
ished. The forces that were active in that trou» 
blous year are still working in Ireland and America ; 
the agitations of to-day are the natural and lineal 
ofifspring of the national endeavors of that time. In this, 
Fenianism diflfers from the preceding movements of the cen~ 
tury. Each of these reached a climax, and died a sudden 
death, leaving the nation sorrowing and prostrated. Sorrow 
enough indeed has followed in the track of Fenianism, but 
since the days when Stephens and his lieutenants awoke the 
country from the lethargy that followed 1849, despair has 
never visited the people, nor has sloth been a reproach to 
their leaders. 

Since Fenianism was published to the world as a fact 
through the seizure of the " Irish People" newspaper in the 
end of 1865, one national movement has but given place to 
another, and the foreign government has been subjected to a 
constant succession of alarms. 

The Amnesty movement proved the adherence of the 
nation to the revolutionary leaders. It was a great popular 
endorsement of revolutionary principles. The Home Rule 
agitation brought into active hostility,— at least in a certain 
sense— to the government, a large and influential class which 



584 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

had long held aloof from national politics. It renewed the 
fight against England at a time when the position of armed re- 
sistance was no longer tenable. The Land League served three 
good purposes. It worried and weakened the British govern- 
ment and caused division among the leaders thereof ; it brought 
into the fight the tenant farmers who had not as a class been 
very active in any agitation since O'Connell's day ; but above 
all, it showed the nation that when united and unswerving, it 
might become an irresistible power for its own redempticjn. 

I remember, years ago, just before the disestablishment of 
the Irish Church, hearing a young man, who was not as wise 
as he was patriotic, express regret because that great con- 
cession was about to be granted. " The more their wrongs 
are redressed, the less discontented the masses will be, and the 
less earnestly they will seek their freedom ; " — such was his 
argument. This of course involves a very mean opinion of 
the people's standard of patriotism ; it implies a surrender 
on their part of the national principle, the right to national 
existence and independence; but even putting that out of the 
question, the speech was a foolish one, as I think. I regard 
every concession won from England as a battle gained in the 
war against her. The better the condition of the people be- 
comes, the better they will be able to maintain future struggles ; 
the more victories they win, — no matter how they win them, 
— the greater their self-confidence, and the greater the im- 
petus with which they will make their next attack. 

Mr. Sullivan has given some account of the revolutionary 
attempt with which 1867 opened. I do not purpose going 
over the same ground, though my memory flies back to the 
bitter winter night when a constant stream of men passed 
along the road that ran at the back of the house where I lived 
on the outskirts of Dublin, and I remember being told — I was 
only eleven years old — to say a prayer for the poor fellows 
who were going out to fight. 

It was the night of March 4th, and the men were hasten- 
ing to Tallaght. The afifair was a failure in all save the tem- 
per they showed. In a couple of gallant skirmishes, and in 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 585 

their soldierly respect for private rights, they covered them- 
selves with honor. There are two things to regret about the 
whole business,— one that it ever took place ; the other, that 
since it did, there was not a better fight. One advantage indeed 
was gained ; it was once again made manifest that'there are 
at all times thousands of Irishmen ready to take up arms 
for the overthrow of English rule in their native land, how- 
ever desperate the venture. 

But this unhappy attempt was only the first of the series of 
alarms that the government had to undergo during 1867. 
Next in order, came the famous Jacknell expedition. On 
the I2th of April, under the impression that their native 
country was in arms, a gallant little band of Irishmen set sail 
from New York harbor on board the brigantine, Jacknell. 
The vessel was cleared for a port in Cuba. According to 
her papers, she was laden with pianos, sewing machines, and 
wine in casks, and in fact the barrels, and oddly shaped cases 
that filled her hold seemed adapted to such a cargo. The 
vessel left Sandy Hook steering to the southward, but when 
the shades of evening fell upon the Ocean, her course was 
changed, and she sped away for the shores of Ireland, on an 
errand of adventure that might not have misbecome the early 
and romantic voyagers upon the Spanish Main. 

To invade the British Empire fifty strong, — with a brigan- 
tine for a navy, and sewing machines for an armament I 

But no, these gallant madmen had some method in their 
undertaking. On the bright bracing morning of April 29th, — 
it was Easter Sunday, — the Jacknell sank into the past, and 
the Sunburst floated in the breeze as the ensign of the Erin's 
Hope. The barrels were broached on this occasion, and pow- 
der and ball were distributed among the crew. From the 
piano cases, rifles and bayonets were taken — they contained 
5000 stand — and it was announced amidst cheers and general 
handshaking that, instead of sewing-machines, three field 
pieces were stored in the hold. 

The voyage was long, and only on May 20th, did a " myster- 
ious brigantine" appear in Sligo Bay, The coast guards 
quickly sighted her ; the telegraph was busy for half a day ; 



586 THE STOEY OF lEELAND. 

and then the royal gunboats steamed out from neighboring 
harbors to investigate. Meanwhile an agent had gone off to 
the vessel from the revolutionary party. Colonel Rickard 
O'SulIivan Burke was the man. His mission was a sad one. 
The illusions of the little invading party were broken by his 
coming. There was no fight — no hope. 

Still, the vessel hovered around the Irish shore, escaping al- 
most miraculously the cruisers of the enemy. But very early 
in June, it became evident that nothing could be done. The 
vessel must return to America. But how? The provisions 
were exhausted in the two months' cruise ; there was no hope 
of a fresh supply. Then thirty men decided to take all risks 
to save the rest. Two fishing smacks were seized off Helvick 
Head in the County Waterford near Dungarvan ; the thirty 
landed and were arrested. A traitor, Daniel J. Buckley, was 
in their midst, and a prison was their resting place at the close 
of their adventure. Most of them were held but a few 
months under the suspended habeas corpus "A-cX. ; onl}^ two were 
brought to trial and sentenced to penal servitude. They 
were Colonel John Warren who was sentenced to fifteen 
years, and Captain Augustine E. Costello, who got twelve. 

These trials had an important consequence. Colonel War- 
ren was a native of Clonakilty, County Cork, Costello 
was born in Galway, but both were naturalized American 
citizens. This fact was ignored, and they were denied the 
right of trial by a half-alien jury, — a right guaranteed to for- 
eigners by English law. The United States government took 
the matter up in time, and insisted on the release of the two 
prisoners. In 1870, Parliament passed the " Warren and Cos- 
tello Act," by which the right of a British subject to abandon 
his allegiance, and become naturalized under another govern- 
ment, was for the first time acknowledged. 

Those who remained in the Brigantine brought her back 
in safety to America, suffering much on the voyage from 
shortness of provisions. The cargo was safely landed, and 
years after, John O'Mahoney showed me some of the mould- 
ering weapons in the office of the expiring Fenian Brother- 
hood, in Chatham Street, New York. 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 587 

This expedition, like nearly all the incidents of Fenianism^ 
teaches an important practical lesson. It proves that the best 
equipped fleet, and the most vigilant coastguards cannot pre- 
vent the landing of munitions of war in aid of a struggling 
people. Had there been men in the field in Ireland, I have 
no doubt that all the Jacknell's stores might have been placed 
in their hands, the English fleet notwithstanding ; and if men 
of the right metal engaged in the work, I think five out of six 
ships, leaving America with a similar object, might accom- 
plish it successfully. Of course, the crew of the sixth might 
become meat for the Lion's jaws, — and scant mercy they 
would get — but such risks are inseparable from all revo- 
lution. 

The Hyde road, leading out of Manchester, is a broad' 
thoroughfare, thickly built up near the city with shops — as 
they call them there — of the smaller class, — barbers' shops, 
public houses, greengroceries, and little haberdasheries and 
linen-drapers' places. About a mile out, these begin to thin 
away in numbers, and near the point where the road is crossed 
by a railroad bridge, long lines of low brick fence, with here 
and there a straggling house, fill up either side of the road. 

Here occurred the celebrated Manchester Rescue, the third 
in point of time of the striking events of 1867. About 3. 30 
o'clock in the afternoon of September i8th, the ordinary prison 
van came driving along this road on its way to the county jail 
at Salford. The residents along the road, who had daily watch- 
ed the journey of this vehicle for years, were awakened to 
unwonted interest in it this day, for besides the customary 
driver, four policemen occupied the box, the guard behind 
was doubled, and following the van came a cab with three 
more officers. 

" There go the Fenians," ran from mouth to mouth. It was 
true. In the van were Colonel Thomas J. Kelly, and Captain 
John Deasey — the former, the head of the revolutionary body 
in England and Ireland, the latter one of his most trusted 
lieutenants. They had been arrested as vagrants a few days 
before, and identified by a sharp detective after their arrest.. 



588 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

They were now going back to jail on remand, and they were 
handcuffed and locked into separate compartments in the van. 
There were in the vehicle besides, three loose women and a 
boy, and Police Sergeant Brett, who was in charge of the 
party, and who had had the keys passed in to him through a 
ventilator after the door had been locked from without. 

But as the van approaches the railroad bridge, a man is 
seen standing in the middle of the road. Presently he draws 
a pistol, and shouts to the driver of the van to stop. The 
driver plies his whip. How can one man expect to stop the 
wheels of the law, with a powerful pair of horses to keep them 
going, and ten uniformed guardians of the peace to watch over 
their progress ? But now from over the low brick walls on 
either side come leaping, other men of strong and active figure, 
and terribly determined aspect. They have pistols too, 
which palpably shoot, for one of the powerful horses of the 
law — poor brute — falls bleeding. Lest they too, bleed, these 
ten gallant guardians, five from the box, two from the rear, 
and three from the accompanying cab, take flight. 

Now the gallant rescuers for a minute hold the field un- 
hampered. 

" Give up the keys," cries one to Sergeant Brett. 

"Never," replies the officer. 

A fatal blunder had been made. No means were at hand 
to force open the prison van. I have heard that levers and 
wedges had been provided, but were forgotten at the rendez- 
vous by the rescuers when they set out on their desper- 
ate undertaking. I have also been told, however, that a fool- 
hardy confidence had been entertained that the keys would be 
at once surrendered, and hence no provision was made for the 
other contingency. I am inclined to believe the former story, 
but it really matters little which was true. The lack of pro- 
per tools was fatal. 

The cowardly police who fled, soon gathered a great throng 
to their aid. At first the sight of the rescuers' pistols kept 
the crowd at a distance, but as numbers poured in, the Eng- 
lish spirit began to wax brave, and paving stones and other 
missiles began to fall thick about the little band. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 58i> 

Still the parley went on, and Brett swore he would never 
surrender. 

" There is no more time to lose," said some one, " blow oft 
the lock with your pistol." Then a man — he is now living in 
America I believe, but for obvious reasons his name must re- 
main concealed,— did apply his weapon to the keyhole, and 
fired. 

Unhappy Sergeant Brett. The ball which was meant to 
break the lock, lodged in his obstinate head. The women in 
the van screamed, and one of them took the keys from the 
prostrate officer, and passed them out. The door was opened, 
and Brett rolled dying to the road. A young man, named 
Allen, stepped past him, and, opening the door of Kelly's cell, 
exclaimed, "I told you Kelly, I'd die before I parted with you." 

Let me hurry over the sequel, — the chase through the fields, 
the brutal treatment of those who were overtaken, — there is 
nothing so barbarous on earth as a low British mob — the ar- 
raignment of the prisoners in irons, the packed jury, the per- 
jured witnesses, the prejudiced judges, the murderous verdict. 

Brett died, and by construction of law, every member of 
the rescuing party was responsible for killing him — responsi- 
ble with his life. Five men were arraigned together on the 
capital charge of murder— Edward O'Meagher Condon 
(known as Shore,) Thomas Maguire, William Philip Allen, 
Michael O'Brien, (known as Gould,) and Michael Larkin. 
All were convicted in one verdict, and on the same testimony. 

But it soon became evident that Maguire, a marine in the 
royal service, was absolutely innocent— had not been at the 
scene, and had no knowledge of, or complicity in the affair, was 
in fact a " loyal " subject. He was pardoned. But if the ver- 
dict was wrong in one case, why not in all ? When the one 
mistake was admitted by the government, every one con- 
cluded that at least the lives of the other four convicts would 
be spared. Not so ; it is announced that they will certainly 
be executed. 

Weeks shorten to days, and hope gives way to despair. 
But at the eleventh hour, it is proclaimed that another of the 
condemned is to be respited, and of all others, the one se- 



590 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

lected is Condon — Condon who boldly avowed his devotion to 
his country in the dock; who all but admitted his participancy 
in the rescue ; who proclaimed to the world that he was not 
afraid to die in a good cause ; who first uttered that brief 
prayer that has since become the watchword of nationality 
— who cried out in an English court, in the face of a bench 
of English judges, "God save Ireland." 

The reason of Condon's respite is not hard to find. He was 
an American citizen, England was quite ready to hang, but 
utterly unprepared to answer for her murderous course, to a 
possible vindicator of her victims' rights. So Condon's sentence 
was commuted. 

But now at length the world felt that none would hang. A 
line might have been drawn at Maguire, but, as the English min- 
istry well knew, Condon was the man most deeply concerned 
in the affair, the "guiltiest" save him who fired the fatal shot. 
Could it be possible then that the government would hang the 
remaining three? 

Yes. The dreadful preparations were advanced ; bayonets 
and batteries were massed in terrible array about the scaffold. 
The blood-thirsty Tory ministers encased their souls in ada- 
mant ; the vile British mob howled words of derision and 
insult throuofh the windows of the condemned men's cells. 

At last, one cold bleak morning— November 23d, 1867 — the 
final scene took place. Let us draw a veil over it. 

Within a few days of the tragedy, a ballad appeared in 
print in Dublin, which caught at once the popular mind. 
The author was Mr. T. D. Sullivan, and his verses have now 
become the national song of Ireland. I give them here, in 
full, in the hope that every young Irishman may commit their 
words to memory, and take their lesson to his heart. The 
song is called 

GOD SAVE IRELAND. 

High upon the gallows tree, 

Swung the noble-hearted three, 
By the vengeful tyrant stricken in their bloom; 

But they met him face to face, 

With the spirit of their race, 
And they went with souls undaunted to their doom. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 591 

"God save Ireland!" said the heroes; 
"God save Ireland !" said they all : 
"Whether on the scaffold high 
"Or the battle-field we die, 
"Oh, what matter, when for Erin dear we fall!" 

Girt around with cruel foes, 

Still their courage proudly rose, 
For they thought of hearts that loved them, far and near; 

Of the millions true and brave 

O'er the ocean's swelling wave, 
And the friends in holy Ireland ever dear. 

"God save Ireland !" said they proudly; 

"God save Ireland ! " said they all: 

"Whether on the scaffold high 

"Or the battle-field we die, 
"Oh, what matter, when for Erin dear we fall ! " 

Climbed they up the rugged stair, 

Rung their voices out in prayer. 
Then with England's fatal cord around them cast, 

Close beneath the gallows tree. 

Kissed like brothers lovingly, 
True to home and faith and freedom to the last. 

"God save Ireland I" prayed they loudly; 

God save Ireland !'' prayed they all : 

"Whether on the scaffold high 

"Or the battle-field we die, 
"Oh, what matter, when for Erin dear we fall ! " 

Never till the latest day 

Shall the memory pass away 
Of the gallant lives thus given for our land; 

But on the cause must go, 

Through joy, or weal, or woe, 
Till we make our isle a nation free and grand. 

"God save Ireland !" say we proudly; 

"God save Ireland !" say we all: 

"Whether on the scaffold high 

"Or the battle-field we die, 
" Oh, what matter, when for Erin dear we fall !" 

Not in vain did these martyrs die. The fall of the drop 
beneath their feet sent a thrill through the heart of Ireland 
that will not wholly subside so long as the nation exists. 
1 can compare the profound feeling of the time to nothing I 
have seen, save the great mourning of the American people 



592 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

for their lately murdered President. The whole Irish race 
sorrowed. 

The weeks immediately following the execution saw a 
long series of funeral demonstrations in Ireland, in England, 
in America, and at the Antipodes. Tens of thousands par- 
ticipated. I myself had a very small part in the great funeral 
procession in Dublin on December 8th, From thirty-five to 
sixty thousand people — according to various estimates — 
marched for miles that Sunday through such rain and slush 
as I have seldom seen, wearing emblems of green upon their 
breasts, veiled with crape. Two hundred thousand men 
women and children, patient of cold, and wet, and wearisome 
delay, lined the streets through which the procession moved, 
standing for hours in mournful silence, only offering prayers 
for the martyrs' rest, when three empty hearses passed along. 

As the cortege passed the spot where Robert Emmet gave 
up his life, — it is in Thomas Street, just by St, Catherine's 
Church, I know it well ; a round stone in the pavement is said 
to mark the spot where the gallows stood, — every man un- 
covered his head in reverence. This procession was headed 
by John Martin, A. M, Sullivan, and Dr, J. C. Waters, walk- 
ing arm in arm. At the gate of Glasnevin Cemetery where 
the line of march terminated, John Martin made a touching 
and patriotic address. For their part in the affair, these three 
gentlemen and others were prosecuted, but the jury which 
tried them disagreed. 

These immediate results of the Manchester execution were 
as nothing to its subsequent effects. Could the government 
have forecast the future, would the death penalty have ever 
been exacted ? Not a single anniversary of the tragedy has 
passed without commemoration by the Irish people at home 
and abroad, in Ireland and in America. The martyred three 
have passed into the heart of hearts of the nation, and it is in- 
deed true that never till the latest day shall their memory cease 
to fire their countrymen to deeds of bravery and sacrifice. 

The mission of these men was to suffer and to die ; their 
reward is a remembrance that will not perish. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 593 




CHAPTER II. 

REVIVAL OF PARLIAMENTARY AGITATION IN IRELAND. THE 
DEMAND FOR AMNESTY A PRACTICAL ENDORSEMENT OF 
FENIANISM. DISESTABLISHMENT. O'DONOVAN ROSSA, M. P. 

NE other startling event occurred in 1867 — the Clerk- 
enwell explosion, but I will postpone the discussion 
of it to another place, and, skipping a few months, I 
'^ will take up that period which is marked by the re- 
vival of parliamentary agitation. 

The end of 1867 and all the former half of 1868 were taken 
up with prosecutions. Assizes and commissions, regular and 
special, for months kept swelling the army of political convicts. 
From all parts of Ireland, and many parts of England the re- 
cruits were gathered. Presently there came a lull ; but hard- 
ly had the last sentence been pronounced, hardly was the last 
felon dressed in his convict garb, when a new voice spoke 
out from the country, a small weak voice at first, but one which 
swelled in volume until it clamored in the ears of England's 
ministers with tones of thunder. 

Think of it ! England had trampled down the Irish people's 
aspirations, had degraded — so far as she was able — their lead- 
ers, and now she found the nation rising up defiantly in the 
hour of supposed defeat, reiterating the old principles, and 
paying homage to the old leaders under the guidance of new 
ones. 

The movement first took definite shape about November, 
1868, but, in fact, in newspaper articles, in general conversa- 
tion, and even in some public speeches, the demand for am- 
nesty had been foreshadowed. Anyway, in November, 1868, 
we find the Central Amnesty Committee in regular weekly 
session at the Mechanics' Institute in Dublin, with various 



594 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

persons in the chair at various times, most notable among 
them Isaac Butt, the eloquent and statesmanlike defender of 
the Fenians before the British tribunals, and of the nation 
in the British forum— a man whose character and career 
might, in Carlylean phrase, be described as at once meteoric 
and fuliginous. I am inclined to the opinion that Isaac Butt 
cannot in any proper sense be classed among the leaders of the 
Irish people. I hardly think he ever really led the movements 
that he headed. But his splendid gifts of imagination, intellect, 
and speech, and his admirable acquirements, made him a most 
available man to thrust forward in great affairs, while men of 
less showy parts and less real genius too, but of more skill in 
the manipulation of parties, lurked in the background and 
pulled the wires. 

But at least, Butt was the first man at this time to proclaim 
the demands of the Irish people from a public platform in the 
presence of a great assemblage. He was the first too, who 
saw with statesmanlike eye, and publicly proclaimed, the true 
meaning of these demands. 

The first of a long series of great amnesty demonstrations 
took place at the Rotunda, Dublin. It was on the evening of 
January 24th, 1 869, and the Lord Mayor presided. Letters from 
half a dozen Roman Catholic bishops, and many other clerics 
both Catholic and Protestant were read, all asking " mercy " 
from the crown. Mr. Butt moved the first resolution. It 
was this : — 

Resolved, that it is the persuasion of this meeting that the grant of a general am- 
nesty to all persons convicted of political offences would be most grateful to the feel- 
ings of the people of the Irish Nation. 

The hall was crowded, and those who have seen an Irish 
political meeting can well imagine the roar of endorsement 
with which this proposition was received. Butt's right man- 
ly and patriotic speech which followed, gave the keynote of 
the whole campaign. He spoke of the swelling popular tide 
in favor of amnesty as a great popular ratification of the prin- 
ciples of the prisoners, as a mighty protest against the ignorant, 
unsympathetic, oppressive government of England. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 595 

The ball set rolling at this meeting did not soon stop, and as 
it rolled it gained in weight and impetus. In February, 1869, 
the first concession was made. According to a Dublin news- 
paper, published at the time, there were then in prison 
eighty-one civilians charged with treason-felony, besides 
many military convicts, and persons charged with murder or 
other deeds of violence. Of the treason-felony men, forty- 
two had been shipped to Western Australia, the rest were 
scattered among various convict settlements in England, 
where they were treated with the utmost rigor of the ordin- 
ary penal rule. About the end of February, it was announced 
that forty- nine prisoners,— thirty-four in Australia, and fifteen 
in England, were to receive free pardons. When the names 
were made known, it was found that Charles James Kickham— 
now dead, unhappily, — was the only man of tirst-rate import- 
ance in the number, though James O'Connor, and James F. 
X. O'Brien might be classed as formidable. The rest were 
men who had occupied subordinate positions in Mr. Stephens' 
organization; but, for some unexplained reason, several men 
equally obscure and unimportant were still held in prison. 

This half-hearted amnesty may serve me as a bridge to 
reach another very important series of events which was 
coming to a climax while the amnesty agitation was only 
dawning. The disestablishment of the Protestant church in 
Ireland, the first of the great measures of reform which Mr. 
Gladstone has bestowed upon the country, was now on the 
eve of accomplishment. It cannot be said that this particu- 
lar concession was urgently sought by the great body of 
the people, nor did it bring them any considerable relief 
from their burdens. It was a concession to the " respectable 
element," to the bishops and better class Catholics. No 
doubt it terminated a crying injustice, no doubt it effaced the 
last marks of conquest which had served to keep Catholics 
divided from their fellow-countrymen of the dominant relig- 
ion. Still, to the masses the satisfaction was only sentimen- 
tal ; the reform, was, of all that might have been introduced, 
the one which did them least good. 



596 THE STORY OP IRELAND. 

According to Mr. Sullivan's account of the matter,* the 
singling out of this church grievance was the result of what, 
in America, we call a "deal," made in the autumn of 1864, 
between the Roman Catholic bishops and that portion of 
the English liberal party, of which John Bright is the type 
man. Denominational education had before been the object 
of the bishops, but there was no hope of an agreement on this 
head with the Whigs. Therefore with a facility which should 
prove instructive to all Irish politicians of whatever stripe, 
they abandoned their old position from which no advance- 
ment could be made, for that new one which promised a 
speedy victory, fully expecting to return, — as indeed they did, 
— to their old ground with redoubled strength. The first 
steps in the new movement were not auspicious. The "Na- 
tional" Association was a failure, and shortly after it was 
founded, — June, 1866, — the Russell-Gladstone ministry fell, 
and Lord Derby and Mr. Disraeli assumed the reins of gov- 
ernment. Under this ministry, all the most troublous events of 
Fenianism passed. This was the ministry of coercion laws, 
and penal tortures. This was the administration that hanged 
the Manchester rescuers, and that kept Lord Strathnairn, the 
butcher of the Sepoys, on hand in Ireland to deal with a pos- 
sible revolt. The rule of the Tories lasted nominally until De- 
cember 2d, 1868. While the full excitement of Fenianism pre- 
vailed, Mr. Disraeli had been able to hold his own. But now 
the ferment was subsiding, and the fact remained, made by 
that formidable movement too plain to be ignored, that Ire- 
land was discontented to the core, and with good reason. 
Some sop should be thrown at once to the people, but 
Mr. Disraeli had no remedy ready. Then the old negociations 
between the bishops and the Liberals bore fruit. Mr. Glad- 
stone and his followers attacked at once the Irish Church and 
the Tories. They defeated the Tories in the House of Com- 
mons in May, 1868, on a series of resolutions, proposed by 
Mr. Gladstone himself, declarative of the propriety of dises- 
tablishing the Church. Mr. Disraeli dissolved parliament 

* "New Ireland," Chapter XXV. 



THE STORY OP IRELAND. 597 

and in the general election the Liberals swept their adver- 
saries out of the field. But in the course of this election Mr. 
Gladstone's utterances had been such that when he became 
prime minister on the reassembly of parliament, no choice re- 
mained for him but to grant some measure of amnesty. What 
he did has been already told. His half-hearted clemency, 
instead of awakening popular gratitude, raised a tempest of 
indignation in the country. 

This is the peculiar fatuity of English statesmen in dealing 
with Ireland. They give so grudgingly, so scantily that they 
never win a cordial response from the people. Mr. Gladstone 
made two mistakes at this time. His amnesty failed to please 
the people at large, and his Church Act failed to relieve 
their sufferings. 

Mr. Gladstone perfected his disestablishment scheme with 
the greatest possible rapidity. The actual reforms were 
three ; every office in Ireland, except the Lord Lieutenancy, 
was thrown open to Roman Catholics ; all special oaths to be 
taken by Catholics on assuming public office were abolished ; 
and all pecuniary support on the part of the Government was 
withdrawn from the Protestant Church, — the vested rights of 
individuals only, being i^espected. 

So far as regards the Protestant Church, the results of this 
change were most favorable. The hour of political downfall, 
proved the hour of spiritual revival. A suitable organization 
was perfected, and as an independent body, the Church is to- 
day strong, influential, and useful in an eminent degree. The 
Catholic peasant derived no profit whatever. Reduction of 
taxation brought no reduction of rents. The money that the 
landlord had formerly paid to the government for the sup- 
port of the established religion, he now put into his own pocket, 
leaving his poor tenants to enjoy the sentimental advantages 
of Mr. Gladstone's great concession. 

The actual disestablishment bill was passed May 31st, 1869, 
and on July 26th, it received the royal assent. It had no effect 
whatever in checking the Amnesty agitation. When the sum- 
mer came, a series of great open air meetings was begun. One 
or more was held near every considerable town in Ireland. 



598 THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 

England, or at least the Irish in England, joined in the agita- 
tion. I was present myself at two of the open air meetings, 
one of them early in the summer at Bray ; the other, the mon- 
ster demonstration at Cabra. Both of these scenes come viv- 
idly before my mind : I am sure none that saw has ever for- 
gotten them. 

The meeting at Bray took place upon a balmy day. It 
was Sunday, the sun was bright, and in the early morning the 
vale through which the river Bray runs brawling down to 
the sea, and the village nestling in its bosom, made a scene 
full of freshness and peace. But as the day wore on, and the 
noontide came, great crowds from the metropolis, and 
from the neighboring country began to fill the quiet roads. 
Green emblems were on many a breast, and patriotic words 
were in every mouth. In due time, Mr. Butt and the other 
speakers came driving through the crowd to the place of meet- 
ing, a field of some half-dozen acres, which was in a minute 
black with people. But now from afar, martial strains float 
over the vale, and long lines of men come marching from var- 
ious outlying districts. Meeting within sight of the constab- 
ulary barracks, where Her Majesty's hirelings watch the 
proceedings from their picturesque battlements, the different 
contingents unite in a procession, and with banners waving 
overhead, and with bursts of patriotic music, they wind along 
the sloping roads imtil they reach the place of meeting and 
are swallowed up in the general mass. It was indeed a scene 
not easily forgotten when, amid the freshness and beauty of 
their own native land, ten thousand Irishmen gathered together 
to proclaim their devotion to her cause, and their confidence 
in her destiny. 

Still another glorious scene, though of a somewhat different 
kind, was that of the Cabra meeting. There was nothing in 
the natural surroundings to lend a charm. Th-e meeting took 
place in a great sloping meadow on the right hand side, — 
going out of town, — of the Cabra road. A wide gap in the 
fence gave admittance to the crowds ; the platform was set up 
at the side of the field farthest from the road. 

The programme for the day had included a procession of 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 



599 



the trades and other civic bodies, but this was prohibited by 
proclamation from the castle. Nevertheless, most of the or- 
ganizations went severally over the projected line of march, 
filling the streets with the afflatus of their determined patriot- 
ism. I remember that the heart of the city was wondrously 
quiet, for the whole population had flocked out toCabra, and 
the sounds that reached the ear of the chance wayfarer from 
time to time, of martial music and marching men, were awe- 
inspiring in the midst of the general solitude. 

The meeting was in the afternoon, and I have seldom seen 
such multitudes as were gathered in the northern portion of 
the city, about the Mater Misericordise Hospital, and out 
along the Phibsborough Road. The field where the speaking 
took place was one vast sea of people. Around the outskirts 
were displayed the banners of the trades, mounted high on 
wagonettes and drags, drawn by teams of four and six horses. 
What enthusiasm pervaded the throng ! What cheers rent 
the air ! What noble sentiments were uttered ! 

I have read these last in later years, for I was not then of an 
age to appreciate oratory,— I think Butt was the only man 
who had awakened my attention — and so I will pass the 
speeches by. In truth, I never got within earshot of the plat- 
form. But as I left the field, I remember catching a glimpse 
of a fine pale face, surmounting a dark close-fitting habit, and 
I remember the people held in a wonderful stillness by a voice 
that came to me then over the heads of the crowd with a sad 
cadence, like an echo from afar, and that comes back to me 
now with an added tinge of melancholy, as if from the speak- 
er's grave. It was George Henry Moore, a man of pure and 
lofty motives, of unselfish patriotism, of high intellectual pow- 
er, who was gifted with the judgment to avail himself of con- 
stitutional methods, and the courage to look forward to the 
time when bolder counsels might prevail ; who owned at once 
the love of the people and the confidence of their leaders ; 
who commanded the support of the nation and the ear of the 
foreign government ; who died in the hour of promise, and 
left behind unrealized conceptions and disappointed hopes, an 
unspotted name and the unavailing sorrow of the nation. 



600 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

When the meeting was over, the trades and other bodies 
marched from the field m processional array. The evening 
was glorious with the rays of the setting sun. Headed with 
bands, with their banners flapping heavily overhead, and bear- 
ing bannerets and pennants of green and gold, they came 
marching down the road. Orange mingled with the green, in 
badges and rosettes ; a new spirit of unity, of strength, of pur- 
pose, pervaded the ranks. The blare of the trumpets mingled 
with the vociferations of the thousands lining the way. It 
seems as if the march that evening might be taken as a type 
of the Nation's progress, in the course of which old jealousies 
must be swept away, and the efforts of all her sons be blended 
into one power to work out her salvation. 

Only one other incident of those days of the Amnesty 
movement will I stop to mention here — one that caused in- 
finite amusement, and yet carried no small weight at the 
time, but which, as I think, has produced rather lamentable 
results in later days. This was the election of O'Donovan 
Rossa to Parliament by the County Tipperary, in November, 
1869. As a manifestation of the sort of man the people of 
Ireland wish to represent them, — or rather, I should say, as 
a signalization of the principles they wished their representa- 
tives to hold, the election of Rossa to the House of Commons 
was an event of unsurpassed importance. It was one of the 
strongest endorsements of Fenianism that the period afforded. 

The vacancy in Tipperary was caused by the death of one of 
the sitting members. Mr. Denis Caulfield Heron, a lawyer, 
was the regular Whig candidate. The fight was between 
him and Rossa. The latter had been chosen for the contest 
as the extremest — to use an un-English word, — of the prison- 
ers. His swaggering defiance of the judges, and indeed of 
the whole machinery of the law at his trial, had tickled the 
fancy of the people. The ill-usage which he brought on him- 
self in prison by his useless, ill-timed, and undignified resist- 
ance to rule, won for him the popular sympathy. Rumors — 
erroneous of course — were rife that he had been flogged in 
prison, and it was known that he had spent days in the dark 
cells. These things made him an available candidate for a 



THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 601 

struggle where everything depended upon catching the 
popular fancy. The Catholic clergy were opposed to him, 
but the bulk of those who voted were opposed to England 
above all things. Rossa defeated his opponent by 1054 votes 
to 898. 

It is needless to say that Rossa was never allowed to take 
his seat in Parliament ; but the protest against Westminster 
legislation conveyed in his triumphant return over all difficul- 
ties at the polls was just as strong as though he had been al- 
lowed to refuse the oath of allegiance at the speaker's table, 
clad in his convict gray. 

To dispose of the subject of the Fenian prisoners briefly, it 
only remains to be said here, that the British government long 
resisted the demand for amnesty ; but at last, in December 
1870, Mr. Gladstone announced the intention of the govern- 
ment to extend "pardons" to all the remaining non-military 
treason-felony convicts,on condition that they should leave the 
United Kmgdom and remain abroad until the expiration of 
their several sentences. Thirty-seven men were set at liberty 
on these conditions, most of whom sooner or later proceeded to 
America. Of the imprisoned soldiers, six were rescued from 
the convict settlement at Swan River near Freemantle in West- 
ern Austraha, on Easter Monday 1876, through the gallantry 
and ability of John J. Breslin, — who had also aided in the es- 
cape of James Stephens from Richmond Bridewell, in Dublin 
— backed by the financial resources of an American Association 
of Nationalists. Many others were from time to time released 
on tickets-of-leave or otherwise, and the last man remaining in 
prison on any charge growing out of the Fenian movement, 
was James Clancy, an ex-soldier of the Royal Engineers, who 
was arrested for treason-felony, and sentenced to penal servi- 
tude for life for firing at the policemen who captured him. 
Clancy was released in October 1878, and a short time after 
came to America. 



602 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 



CHAPTER III. 

HOW IRISHMEN OF OPPOSITE OPINIONS COMBINED AT LAST 
IN THEIR country's CAUSE. STRENGTH AT THE HUSTINGS 
AND WEAKNESS IN THE COMMONS. JOHN MITCHEL. 



m 

'^' I' 



C 



N this chapter I am to begin the story of the Home 
Rule movement. I believe the narrative will illus- 
trate the important truth that in politics as in all other 
^"^ affairs of life, clearness of aim, and untiring aggression 
are indispensible to success. We shall find the Home Rule 
movement weak, languishing, and fruitless, so long as its policy 
is one of conciliation and patient waiting. But as soon as a 
man of bold determined character, and vigorous activity as- 
sumes the leadership, the party develops into a great power ; as 
soon as a single w^ell-defined, and paramount object becomes 
the focus of its endeavors, these progress to great results. 

The- period on which we are now entering, opened with a 
national disaster. George Henry Moore died at his residence, 
Moore Hall, in the County Mayo, on the 19th of April, 1870. 
This was just one month before the founding of the Home 
Rule organization. There can be no doubt as to the part that 
this man would have taken in the new agitation, and it is im- 
possible to exaggerate the greatness of his loss at this time. 
What indecision, what delays, what feeble measures, what 
hampering of all the energetic tendencies of the nation he 
might have prevented ! His death threw the undivided lead- 
ership into the hands of Isaac Butt, and Butt proved wholly 
unequal to the trust. 

I cannot refrain from saying a few words about the death 
of Moore. It fell like a pall upon the nation. But a day or 
two before, his name had been in every mouth as a word of 
hope, and when he died the people were dismayed. A great 
throng gathered to follow him to the grave. From every 



THE STORY OF lEELAND. 603 

side, the most notable men of the popular party hastened to 
the house of mourning. Not a few conservative gentlemen 
too, who admired the deceased for his personal qualities, came 
to pay a last tribute of respect. Not in the presence of these, 
however, was the highest honor done to the dead man's mem- 
ory ; but in the gathering of the poor and the lowly, — of the 
oppressed people who revered and loved him, and who had 
begun to hope for brighter days under his leadership. The 
peasantry and townfolk for fifty miles around flocked to the 
house that chill April morning, and I am told that hundreds 
of men of humble means went from Dublin to the funeral. 

As the body was borne from the house, the women on a 
sudden raised the kaoine, or Celtic funeral wail. The sensa- 
tion created in the crowd was terrible. For a moment the 
mourners stood appalled. Men in the surrounding crowd 
broke into tears. Another memorable scene was enacted by 
the grave. A fussy parish priest, it appears, had insisted on 
his right to deliver the funeral sermon, and after some remon- 
strance, the point had beenyielded. He performed his part with 
grandiloquent mediocrity. But there was among the mourn- 
ers that day another priest, Father Patrick Lavelle — noted 
alike for his ability and patriotism, and for his pugnacity more 
than for either, — who had been the friend of the deceased, 
who understood him, and could speak of him as no other man 
could. When the coffin had been lowered, and the earth 
smoothed over it, Father Lavelle, at the instance of many of 
those present, came forward to address the crowd. 

For two or three minutes, he stood with bent head, gazing 
at the new-made grave. Then he threw up his arms, and 
raising his face to the sky, burst into a passion of weeping, 
while his auditors thrilled to the heart broke out into loud 
sobs and cries of lamentation. 

The Home Rule movement had its origin at a meeting or 
conference held at the Bilton Hotel, Dublin, on the evening 
of May 19th, 1870. The assemblage was a strange one for Ire- 
land, and it showed the far-reaching effects that Fenianism 
had produced. Only through Fenianism and the changes 



604 THE STOEY OF lEELAND. 

that it wrought, had such a gathering become possible. In 
the days of Protestant ascendancy, it could never have come 
to pass that Orangemen and Catholics, conservatives and rev- 
olutionists should meet iw harmony, as they did that night, 
to consult and combine for the general advancement of their 
country's cause ; nor could many of those who were present 
that night, have been brought to see that Ireland had any 
cause at all, demanding effort on their part, had it not been 
for the great leavening that the country' had just undergone. 
Fenianism failed to bring much enlightenment to England 
as to the wrongs, the needs, the resolves of the Irish people. 
To this day, England as a nation, is blind as regards Ireland. 
But at least, the great conspiracy caused the eyes of many 
thousand Irishmen to open. 

Profit may be found in the study simply of the names of 
those who attended the meeting, and I am sorry I have not 
space to give the list in full. I select a few men from it, how- 
ever, and the statement of their religious and political opinions 
will enable the reader to judge how great a change had been 
wrought by disestablishment. First in prominence was Isaac 
Butt, in his youth a conservative and the opponent of O'Con- 
nell, but now classed as a "Protestant nationalist." In con- 
trast with him, may be put James V. Mackay, J. P., an 
Orangeman. The Lord Mayor of Dublin and two ex-Lord 
Mayors were present. The incumbent and one of his prede- 
cessors were Protestant conservatives; the other ex-Lord May- 
or was a Catholic liberal. The Rev. Joseph E. Galbraith, a 
Fellow of Trinity College, was a Protestant conservative, and 
so were Sir William Wilde, Major Knox, (proprietor of the 
"Irish Times,") Archdeacon Gould, Captain Edward R. King- 
Harman, the Hon. Lawrence Harman King-Harman, and 
George F. Shaw, Fellow of Trinity College. William Shaw, 
M. P. was a Protestant liberal ; John Martin was a Presby- 
terian nationalist ; John Nolan (secretary of the Amnesty As- 
sociation) was a Catholic nationalist ; James O'Connor, and 
James J. O' Kelly were in opinion, — if not in fact — Fen-, 
ians, — both were Catholics ; A. M. Sullivan classes himself 
as a Catholic repealer, and Mr. P. J. Smyth comes under 



THE STORY OF lEELAND. 605 

the same head ; Alfred Webb was a Quaker and a nation- 
alist. 

In a word, every stripe of Irish party politics was represent- 
ed, as well as the three leading religions of the country. The 
deliberations were harmonious, and they ended by the adoption 
of a resolution, proposed by Butt, and couched in these 
terms ; — 

Resolved, that it is the opinion of this meeting that the true remedy for the evils of 
Ireland is the estabUshment of an Irish parliament with full control over our domes- 
tic affairs. 

This was adopted, Mr. Sullivan tells us* without a dissent- 
ient voice. He adds, " Everyone, greatly astonished, burst 
into a cheer ; the first heard that evening, so grave and earn- 
est and almost solemn had been the tone of the deliberations." 

An auspicious beginning, indeed, for a patriotic movement ! 
The succeeding months too were full of promise. The people 
took up the cry of Home Rule enthusiastically enough. Thou- 
sands were attracted by the idea who had never before been 
on the popular side in politics. The formal organization 
was called the Home Government Association of Ireland, but 
it never, as an organization, occupied a place of first-rate im- 
portance. Such strength as the movement ever had, lay in the 
spontaneous mustering of the people to the leaders' support 
whenever an opportunity for action arose. 

The plan of operations being one of peaceful and parlia- 
mentary agitation, the effort to form a Home Rule party in 
the House of Commons was begun as soon as ever a fair op- 
portunity arose. Several gentlemen who represented Irish 
constituencies when the Association was formed, had given in 
their adhesion to it at once, and so had become the nucleus of 
a parliamentary party, but the first man actually chosen to the 
House as a professed Home Ruler was John Martin, the 
Forty-eight nationalist, who had in 1869 been defeated in a 
memorable contest for Longford. In 1871, a vacancy occur- 
red in Meath. It was at once determined that Martin should 

• "New Ireland," Chapter XXVTII. 



606 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

contest the seat. The Hon. Mr. Plunkett, a Roman Catholic, 
and brother of Lord Fingall, was his opponent. He was the 
regular candidate of the Liberal part}', and had the nominal sup- 
port of the Roman Catholic clergy. He laughed at the Home 
Ruler's pretensions, and indeed, lew persons really expected to 
see Martin returned. The situation, however, was critical, 
and the popular leaders bent their energies to the struggle. 
They had staked their all upon a single cast. Defeat, in truth, 
meant ruin. But the people of Meath proved worthy of the 
confidence that had been placed in them ; the priests proved 
practically neutral : and the administration party, combatting 
against forces which they did not comprehend, and which 
they far underestimated, were seriously handicapped. The 
result justified the enterprise of the Home Rule leaders. The 
close of the fight found Martin head of the polls by a vote of 
1 1 49 to 684. 

The moral effect of this event was very great. The victors 
made no delay in following up their advantage. The next va- 
cant seat in Parliament was for Galway, and the election 
came in February, 1871. Mr. Mitchel-Henry, the son of an 
Irishman settled in Lancashire, and himself a surgeon of high 
repute but retired from practice, became the Home Rule 
candidate. He owned a handsome place in the county, and 
his family had of old been one of some influence there. From 
the first, his election was a foregone conclusion, so much so 
that no candidate appeared to oppose him. He was returned 
without contest. The next noteworthy incident occurred in 
June. Mr. P. J. Smyth, a Young Irelander, a speaker of ex- 
cellent capacity, and a man of unquestionable patriotism, but 
intractable in character, and Utopian in ideas, was elected 
member for Weslmeath also without contest. In September, 
Mr. Butt was similarly elected from Limerick. Finally, in 
January, 1872, after a contest of desperate rancor, in which 
both sides fairly exhausted their resources, Mr. Rowland Pon- 
sonby Blennerhassett, a mere boy, fresh from Oxford, but 
occupying by birth an influential position, and professmg the 
Home Rule doctrine, was triumphantly chosen to represent 
Kerry, defeating the forces of landlordism and foreign ascen- 
dancy by a signal majority. 



THE STORY OP IRELAND. 607 

With this event ends the first period of the Home Rule 
agitation, the period of evolution. The party was now firm- 
ly established in the country, had shown its power, was con- 
fessed b}' enemies as well as friends to constitute a new and 
formidable element in Irish politics. 1 have dwelt on the 
history of this first period in order to illustrate the precise 
position of the movement among the masses of the people. 
The vision of a Parliament of their own was one of joy and 
promise to them. From this time forward, the advocacy of 
Home Rule has been indispensable in anyone desiring to 
represent an Irish constituency. But it was always the idea 
that the nation rallied to support, and not the party. The 
people were never very generally aroused to share in the 
agitation. Whenever the occasion offered to strike a blow at 
England, by defeating the representative of a regular English 
party, then they shook off their lethargy, and boldly vin- 
dicated their rights and their aspirations. But the general 
run of demonstrations in support of the Home Rule policy 
fell far short in numbers, in enthusiasm, and in moral force, 
of those which had supported O'Connell's demands, or 
endorsed the principles of Fenianism during the great Am- 
nesty year. 

In the autumn of 1873, a great project was formed to give 
new vigor to the somewhat languishing movement. In Oc- 
tober, a call for a great National Conference was circulated 
through the country, and in ashort time the names of twenty- 
five thousand men of influence and standing were affixed to 
it. On Tuesday, November 18, 1873, the Conference met in 
the Round Room of the Rotunda, Dubhn. It was numer- 
ously attended, and by men of a high order of intelligence. 
Every shade of party feeling, and all the leading religious 
sects were represented. Mr. William Shaw, M. P. presided ; 
the proceedings lasted for three days, and, throughout, were 
dignified, patriotic, and harmonious. There was no mistak- 
ing the general current of feeling in the assembly ; there was 
no mistaking the general endorsement of the Home Rule 
principle ; but there was equally plainly a lack of a master 
mind. Nothing occurred during the sessions to form the 



608 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

Stimulus of a popular awakening ; nothing was done to give 
solidity, strength, or definiteness to the movement ; and no 
plans were formulated which were calculated to have any ap- 
preciable effect in modifying the policy of England. 

Still, the immediate effect of the Conference for good was 
very considerable. A general election followed shortly after. 
Parliament was dissolved by Mr. Gladstone in January, 1874. 
The event came as a surprise not to Ireland only, but to the 
entire Empire. The newly founded Home Rule League, — it 
was organized by the conference — was ill prepared for such 
an emergency. Home Rule candidates were lacking for the 
various counties and boroughs that were eager to elect them ; 
organization, money, experience, everything was deficient 
that might be considered necessary to success. But there 
was no deficiency of spirit among the people. The Ballot 
Act of 1872 had broken down the power of landlords, and 
employers. Every man could vote according to his con- 
science without fearing the vengeance of a disappointed mas- 
ter. This was the first opportunity the people had had to 
avail themselves of their new found liberty. They did so 
without stint. Sixty-two Home Rulers sought the suffrages 
of the voters in various parts of the country ; sixty of them 
were returned triumphantly. Let it be remembered that Ire- 
land had but a hundred and three representatives to elect. 
Of these, though taken by surprise, she elected at her 
very first opportunity a clear majority, solemnly pledged to 
combat the forced and unnatural union with England, to as- 
sert the people's right, as a distinct nationality, to rule them- 
selves and care for themselves. 

While these events were occurring in Ireland, a very lively 
contest was in progress in America, which, though it was 
waged over the musty relics of a bygone century, yet 
had a considerable practical influence upon the current time. 
How close was the bond between the Irish people in America 
and at home ; how warmly the former cherished their tra- 
ditions of hate for England ; and how formidable an aux- 
iliary they might prove to schemes of Irish liberation, the 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 609 

British government had well learned during the Fenian ex- 
citement. The United States — though indeed the Federal 
administration had been shamefully inactive in defending its 
citizens, — had then been the only barrier between England 
and her vengeance. Now in more tranquil days, to provide 
for future contingencies, a British emissary came to the United 
States, for the purpose of poisoning the American mind against 
Ireland and her national efforts. James Anthon)^ Froude was 
the man who undertook this honorable task. The nature of 
his calumnies is well known. They may be seen in detail in 
his libellous " English in Ireland." His character as a histor- 
ian has been exposed by English as well as Irish scholars. 1 de- 
sire in this place only to say a word as to the actual conse- 
quences of his mission. On the American people, he made no 
impression. They received him hospitably and listened to 
him politely ; they dined him, wined him, complimented him 
— and disbelieved him. But among the Irish people in 
America, he roused up a host of defenders of their race. A 
storm of indignation was levelled against him and his employ- 
ers, and a great revival of interest in Irish history, with con- 
sequent accession of bitter feeling over old grievances, was 
the immediate outcome of his mission. 

Two men stood out from all the rest of Froude's refuters, 
both from their previous reputation, and the effect of their 
replies to him. These two were John Mitchel, the felon of 
Forty-eight, and Father Thomas Burke the Dominican orator. 
Of the former, I have to speak again ; and I need only allude 
here to the remarkable scholarship and trenchant satire which 
marked his answers to Froude. They were published in a 
New York weekly newspaper, and I believe have since been 
collected and republished. Father Burke made use of his ad- 
mirable oratorical gifts to reply to the slanderer of his country 
and his faith. His popularity, then at its zenith, the attractive 
form of his answers, and the wide circulation given them 
through the press of the country, combined to make him the 
means of carrying the truth to thousands who would otherwise 
have taken small interest m the controversy. A man was he ol 
wonderful personal magnetism, of fine gifts of speech, of mind, 



610 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

of fancy, and of strong feeling. His sway over masses of people 
was remarkable. His voice was always heard on the side of 
patriotism and justice, and through his eloquence, I believe, as 
many hearts have been saved to Ireland as souls to Heaven. 
Lately he has passed away from the scene of his labors, but 
he has left behind the sorrowing aifection that a sincere, unself- 
ish spirit, and a warm sympathetic heart must always beget. 

John Mitchel revisited Ireland in 1874. This seems a sim- 
ple matter, yet it was the beginning of one of the most roman- 
tic episodes of later Irish history. 

Mitchel was an outlaw in Great Britain— an escaped con- 
vict, and an unrepentant rebel. His liberty was not worth an 
hour's purchase once he set foot on Irish soil. Yet broken 
wMth age, and enfeebled by sickness as he was, he had resolved 
that he would not die until he once more breathed the air of 
his native Ulster, until he fought one more fight in the cause 
to which he had given up his life. 

*' It is quite true the government may cause my arrest," said 
he to a newspaper man in New York the day before he sailed ; 
" but, on the whole, I hardly think they will. If they think fit 
to do so, I shall be quite content to have them bring on them- 
selves the odium that must result from such a proceeding." 

A little while before, he had written thus to Mr. A. M. 
Sullivan ; — 

When certain friends bethought themselves of putting me in nomination for Cork 
city, at the last election, and asked me the question /^r cable," Will you come over if 
elected ? " Only one answer was possible. I would have gone at once, by the very 
next steamer calling at Queenstown. 

He had been put in nomination for Tipperary as well as 
Cork city, but had been given no previous notice whatever. 
His famous dictum, that no good thing could come from the 
British Parliament, was well known to the people. They 
doubted whether he would consider an election to that body 
an insult, or a compliment. Under the circumstances, it is 
not strange that he was defeated. 

But now it was certain that he was willing to be a candidate. 
Had he changed his opinions ? Was he in his old age, coming 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 611 

to regard " moral force " as the solution of Ireland's cause? 
No, to the latest breath, he was the same determined enemy 
of all things British, the same fierce advocate of the extremest 
measures. But he had hit on a novel scheme of warfare of 
his own. 

If he were elected, one of two alternatives should arise. His 
election might be accepted by the House of Commons, or it 
might be rejected on the ground of his position as a ticket-of- 
leave man, who had broken his parole— of course, he had 
done this in no dishonorable sense, but only according to Brit, 
ish fiction. If the government would permit him, then, he 
proposed to go to London, and, at the bar of the Commons, make 
solemn protest against English domination of his native coun- 
try. He would recount the bloodshed, the rapine, the fraud, 
the sacrilege by which it had been brought about. He would, 
in the British Halls of Legislature, lay bare the corruption of 
the Act of Union. He would describe in tones that all the 
world should hear, the true condition of his country, down-trod- 
den and impoverished ; of her people given over to ignorance 
and starvation. He would attack even the "golden link of the 
crown," and show that for Ireland to be truly prosperous 
and happy, she must take her place as a free sovereign power 
among the nations of the earth. 

But as he says himself. Parliament could, and would find 
some means of disqualifying him. It would declare the seat 
for Tipperary vacant again. Of this possibility he says in the 
letter quoted above : 

That would suit me very well, because I would offer myself again — would be elect- 
ed again, for the electors are sole judges of the eligibility. And if Parliament dis- 
franchised Tipperary altogether, then I would go across the county boundary into 
Clare, or into Kilkenny, get elected there, and so procure the happy disfranchisement 
of county after county. 

Speaking of the fears of the Home Rulers that his candida- 
ture might injure their cause, he utters an important principle 
which applies with equal truth to every so-called constitu- 
tional movement from the Emancipation agitation to the 
Land League. He says : — 



612 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

I think also that your party is under a mistake in supposing that T, if returned for 
an Irish constituency, would be likely to introduce confusion or weakness into the 
Home Rule ranks. On the contrary, I might act in the opposite direction, and do 
you service, for the greatest strength and support you would have in England would 
he the knowledge of the fact that behind you there is an extreme party— an extreme 
Left, so you would be the Left Centre. 

He sailed from New York on July 14, and landed at Queens- 
town on the 25th. A characteristic anecdote is told of his ar- 
rival in the harbor. It appears that when he sailed from it as 
a convict, five and twenty years before, a drizzling rain obscur- 
ed the retreating hills from his longing gaze. As the steam- 
er on which he returned steered into the " Cove," a similar 
rain hung like a veil over the shores. 

"Good God," said Mitchel, *' isn't that shower over yet ?" 

His landing at Queenstown was unexpected, and his pre- 
sence was unknown until he arrived at Cork. There, ten 
thousand people marched in procession to his hotel to wel- 
come him. He made a little speech on that occasion which 
was very affecting. He told them he had always loved Cork — 
what part of Ireland did he not love? — but that after that 
meeting with her sons, he would love and honor her more 
than ever. 

A day or two after, he hastened to Newry, his native town. 
There he rested very quietly for several months. His health 
grew wonderfully better; but as there seemed no prospects 
of a Parliamentary vacancy, he returned to New York in 
October. 

In February, 1875, the member who had before defeated 
him in Tipperary, resigned, and Mitchel was put in the field 
as a candidate. He sailed forthwith from America to make 
a personal canvass of the county, but the day before he 
landed, — February i6th, — he was declared elected without op- 
position. He at once went quietly to Dromolane near New- 
ry, to the house of his fathers. 

But Parliament quashed the election. John Martin, Mr. 
Sullivan, and a few others made a gallant stand in the debate 
which preceded this action. Even some English members 
denounced the haste of the proceedings as indecent. It was in 



THE STORY OP IRELAND. 613 

vain. On February 20th, upon the motion of Mr. Disraeli, the 
House of Commons by a vote of 250 to 100 — approximately — 
declared that the man of the people's choice was ineligible to 
represent them. 

Then Mitchel kept his word. He went to Tipperary, and 
so far as his strength — now ebbing fast away — would allow, 
he personally sought the suffrages of the constituency. A 
certain Mr. Moore, a Tory and a seeker after cheap honors, 
took the field against him. The polling was on March nth, 
and the result was that Mitchel had 3 114 votes; Moore, 
746. 

Mitchel again repaired to Dromolane "to rest," while Par- 
liament deliberated. But his battles were now over ; he had 
stood before his fellow men for the last time in vindication 
of the principles of liberty and patriotism to which he had 
devoted himself. His small remaining vitality burned away 
faster and faster day by day, in the heat of the conflict in 
which he was engaged. His spirit passed away on the morn- 
ing of March 20th, about day-break, and the same roof under 
which he was born, sheltered his death-bed. 

Thus died John Mitchel, — not in a way to be sorrowed for, 
I am sure, but after a manner, rather, to awaken exultation, 
— sustained and comforted by the trust and affection of his 
people, resting in the land he loved so well, facing the foe he 
had combatted all his hfe, yet for the moment pausing from 
the strife. Death touched him gently at the end, and the 
peace of his closing scene was in affecting contrast with the 
wear and struggle of his life. He has taken as the motto of 
his History of Ireland, written in his later years, these lines 
of the poet ; — 

"The Star of the West shall yet rise in its glory, 
And the land that was darkest, be brightest in story ; — 
I too may be gone ; but my name shall be spoken 
When Erin awakes, and her fetters are broken." 

I have never read these lines, in this place, without a pecu- 
liar emotion. It seems to me as if this man, as the shadows 
began to gather about him , was granted one vision of the future. 



614: THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 

He saw more surely than is often granted, the destined end 
of the fight in which he had engaged. His mind's eye rested 
on the picture of an Ireland flourishing and free, and he saw 
that in the hearts of the people his life would not be without 
its recompense. Like Joshua, he gazed from afar upon the 
Promised Land, and then he blessed God and died. 





CHAPTER IV. 

OBSTRUCTION. MEN AND METHODS THAT WORRIED THE HOUSE 
OF COMMONS. A NEW AND HAPPY DEPARTURE. FAMINE. 
LAND FOR THE LANDLESS PEOPLE. PARNELL, DEVOY, 
DAVITT. 

./^ 

'I HE general history of the years from 1873 to 1877, 
presents little that is pleasant to dwell upon. 
Vacillation in the Home Rule policy, division among 
its chiefs, weakness in its leader, defeat in all its 
efforts, gradually expiring confidence in the country — such 
are the characteristics of the time. The design of the party 
had been to agitate in Parliament for minor reforms •,. its 
hope, to gradually accustom England to doing justice to 
Ireland. One great annual debate on constitutional separa- 
tion was to be secured, the result was to be left to time and 
Providence. I know no better way of showing how this 
plan succeeded, than to borrow from Mr. Sullivan's " New 
Ireland," a record of the efforts made in behalf of the subject 
nation during the period indicated, and the manner in which 
they were disposed of by the representatives of the ruling peo- 
ple ;— 

Amendment to the Address on Home Rule ; March 20th, 1874 ; Irish vote,— ayes 
48, noes 26 ; defeated by 288 British votes. 

Amendment to the Address on Home Rule, July 2d, 1874 ; Irish vote,— ayes 53, 
noes 37 ; defeated by 421 British votes. 

Amendment to the Address on Home Rule, June 30th, 1876 ; Irish vote,— ayes 52, 
noes 33 ; defeated by 2^8 British votes. 

Amendment to the Address on Home Rule, April 24th, 1877, shows similar result*. 

April 17th, 1874, Irish Municipal Franchise Bill; Irish vote, — ayes 43, noes 14 ; 
thrown out by 1 1 1 British votes. 

June l8th, 1874 ; Municipal Privileges Bill ; Irish vote,— ayes 22, noes 9 ; rejected 
by 66 British votes. 

April 28th, 1874 ; Purchase of Irish Railways Bill ; Irish vote,— ayes 45, noes 6 ; 
defeated by 236 British votes. 

615 



616 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

March 23d 1875 ; Irish Municipal Corporations Bill ; Irish vote, — ayes 43, noes 18 ; 
thrown out by 127 British votes. 

March 1st, 1S75 ; Irish Municipal Franchise Bill; Irish vote, — ayes 41, noes 16; 
flung out by 160 British votes. 

March 22d, 1876 ; Irish Fisheries Bill ; Irish vote, — ayes 54, noes 6 ; rejected by 
209 British votes. 

March 28th, 1876; Irish Borough Franchise Bill; Irish vote, — ayes 57, noes 17; 
flung out by 162 British votes. 

May 3d, 1876 ; Irish Registration of Voters Bill ; Irish vote, — ayes 41, noes 23 ; re- 
jected by 212 British votes. 

July 8th, 1875; Irish Lunatic Asylum Bill ; Irish vote, — ayes 28, noes 7; rejected 
by 1 1 1 British votes. 

June 2d, 1875; Irish Land Bill ; Irish vote, — ayes 44, noes 22; rejected by 279 
British votes. 

June nth, 1S75 ; Motion for Enquiry into the Working of the 1870 Land Act; 
Irish vote, — ayes 30, noes II ; rejected by 97 British votes. 

June 30th, 1875 ; Grand Jury Reform Bill ; Irish vote, — ayes 32, noes 22 ; thrown 
out by 160 British votes. 

June 29th, 1876 ; Irish Land Bill ; Irish vote, — ayes 48, noes 33 ; rejected by 257 
British votes. 

April 24th, 1877 ; Irish Land Bill; Irish vote, — ayes 48, noes 24 ; flung out by 320 
British votes. ^ 

The great weakness of the Home Rule party was the lack 
of a clear and united purpose, and a definite scheme whereby 
to accomplish it. The fundamental resolutions of the Home 
Government Association simply contained a declaration 
in favor of a separate legislature to manage the domestic af- 
fairs of Ireland, while the affairs of the Empire at large were 
to be entrusted to an Imperial Parliament. The adherents 
of the party were understood to concur in the effort to bring 
about such an arrangement, yet no one was " committed to 
any political opinion, save the desirability of seeking for Ire- 
land the amount of self-government indicated." 

Now, the " amount of self-government indicated," on the 
most liberal construction, was not enough to enkindle the 
popular imagination, or excite great national enthusiasm ; 
and it very soon became evident that nobody quite knew what 
theamount was. One distinguished leader of opinion wascon- 
fessedly seeking repeal, pure and simple, while another was 
willing to give up to a purely English parliament, all interna- 
tional and Imperial concerns, on condition that Ireland should 
be allowed to do all her petty internal legislation for herself. 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 617 

If anyone should have known just what the Home Rule party 
wanted, surely that man must have been Butt. Butt, however, 
had no enlightenment to give the people. He wavered now in 
this direction, now in that, according as this or that doctrine 
was uppermost before the public. He never made any serious 
effort to define the object he sought, and still less attempted 
to formulate a definite system by which the difficulties inci- 
dental to Home Rule in any degree, should necessarily be ac- 
companied. Only one point Butt seemed really determined 
upon, — he would not give offence to England or her statesmen. 
He would agitate for minor reforms, he would calmly argue 
the case of Ireland, he would deferentially request attention 
to her grievances ; but he would patiently await the time 
when a sense of justice would cause her masters to afford her 
some relief. The English government, meanwhile treated 
almost comtemptuously a party which had neither definite 
objects nor feasible schemes, and the people lost confidence 
in leaders who were united only in name, divided on every 
tangible issue. 

Such was the situation in 1877, when, from the most unex- 
pected source, anew energy, potent both in Parliament and 
with the people, came into being. 

Charles Stewart Parnell was a young gentleman of the 
County Wicklow. His family had long been famous in 
Ireland for high mental powers, and incorruptible political vir- 
tue. The poet Parnell, to whom Alexander Pope has dedi- 
cated a poem, takes no mean rank in letters ; nor did he lack re- 
gard for the country of his birth, in his day just emerging from 
almost the darkest period of her history. Again we find a 
Parnell, worthily styled by his iGllow-country men /^ar exce//aice 
" The Incorruptible," ranking among the purest public ser- 
vants of his day, and among the bitterest opponents of the 
Act of Union. A grandson of this gentleman married the 
daughter of another terrible enemy of England — Miss Delia 
Stewart, the daughter of that Commodore Stewart who was 
the father of the triumphant American navy of 1 8 1 2, who him- 
self sailed and fought through several glorious cruises the 
gallant frigate. Constitution, — the same Commodore who 



618 THE STOEY OF IRELAND. 

lives in American history and American hearts under the 
grim but expressive title of " Old Ironsides." 

The son of this marriage, the descendant of " Old Ironsides" 
and " The Incorruptible," is to-day the chosen chief of the 
Irish people, the leader under whom they have accomplished 
no small results, the guide whom they hope to follow to still 
o-reater things. Charles Stewart Parnell was born in June, 
1846, at Avondale, the family seat in Wicklow. He was 
brought up in England, and he graduated at Cambridge 
University. Originally, his acquaintance with Irish affairs was 
very slight. His sympathies, Mr. Sullivan tells us, were first 
attracted to the popular cause by the Manchester executions.; 
However that may be, he seems quite early in life to have form- 
ed strong patriotic opinions and aspirations. He was chosen to 
Parliament as a Home Ruler by the County Meath, in 1875, 
when John Martin, the purest, simplest, and most devoted of 
men, so closely followed his old comrade Mitchel to the 
grave. 

In the spring of 1877, Parnell became the founder of the 
now celebrated " Obstruction " policy. He seems to have 
drifted into it by accident, to have persisted in it from delib- 
eration. The course of action is simply to retard the oper- 
ations of the House of Commons by every parliamentary 
device. Exhaustive speeches are indulged in on every side 
issue ; motions to adjourn, motions that the speaker ** leave the 
chair," personal explanations, and all the other tricks and 
devices known to parliamentarians are unsparingly resorted 
to, to check the progress of obnoxious measures. At first, 
Parnell was only one of a group of members who fought 
ao-ainst the practice of bringing important measures up for 
action at advanced hours of the night. The first great ob- 
struction combat took place on the English Prisons Bill, on 
March 26th, 1877. A number of salutary amendments were 
moved during the evening by Mr. Parnell and others. They 
were all rigorously voted down. At last, in the early hours of 
the morning, Mr. Biggar moved an adjournment of the House. 
Even then his proposal was supported by some English mem- 
bers. His motion was defeated by 138 noes to 10 ayes. 



THE STOEY OF IRELAND, 619 

Then Parnell plunged into the fight, and for two long hours 
he maintained a guerrilla warfare such as Parliament had 
never known before. This was the entering wedge. Par- 
nell quickly conceived the idea of forcing Ireland's grievances 
upon the attention of the House by showing that her repre- 
sentatives came to Westminster not to plead, but to fight. 

From the beginning, he had the unfailing support of three 
other members — Joseph Biggar, who sat for Cavan ; Frank 
Hugh O'Donnell, representing Dungarvan ; and John O'Con- 
nor Power, member for Mayo. These men, Parnell, Big- 
gar, O'Donnell, and Power, were the four first known as 
*' Obstructionists," and during the greater part of two sessions 
they carried on their fight almost by their own unaided re- 
sources. They were a remarkable little band. Parnell, a 
tall, fair, handsome young man, with a refined manner, a clear 
voice, and a slightly English accent, spoke calmly, logically, 
incisively. His bearing was cold, and reserved. Persever- 
ance, courage, and energy, were three of his most marked 
traits. He always kept his presence of mind and his temper. 
He studiously avoided even the appearance of discourtesy. 
He would delay the house for hours upon some trivial point ; 
he would rise time and again to speak at length regarding 
some side issue, — he would move an adjournment ten times in 
a couple of hours ; but he would always take the floor with a 
smile, and would preface his remarks with a few words of seem- 
ing conciliation and deprecation. O'Donnell, a writer for 
the press, possessed an unusual knowledge of foreign and 
colonial affairs, both of which were subjects of special concern 
at this time. He made his information the means of goading 
Cabinet ministers well nigh to desperation. His scornful 
smile as he rose to speak, was an exasperation which the 
House never failed to resent ; but he seemed to revel in the 
anger of his fellow legislators. Biggar has of late been be- 
fore the public under the guise of a gay and fickle Lothario. 
He has been the defendant in a suit for breach of promise. 
This is all the more odd as he is personally deformed, and 
is gifted, it is said, with a voice which reminds the hearer of 
the filing of a saw. This sweet organ he used without stint 



620 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

upon the ears of the unhappy ministry of Mr. Disraeli, — who, 
by the way, had come into office after Mr. Gladstone's ill- 
advised dissolution coup of 1874. None of the Obstruction- 
ists has ever been more hateful to English members than 
Biggar. His North-of-Ireland accent, his savage sarcasm, 
and his shrewd business talent alike rendered him obnoxious 
to his adversaries. Of John O'Connor Power, there is httle 
to be said. He is a man of great ability of an every day kind. 
He started in life in a comparatively humble station, and with 
"Advanced National " opinions. As he emerged from his hu- 
mility, he abandoned his revolutionary notions. His career in 
Parliament was rendered successful by his skill as a debater. 
Night after night while the Prisons Bill was going through 
the house, the contest was renewed, and indescribable scenes 
took place. English members hooted and groaned, while 
the Irishmen talked against time. This must be said for 
the Obstructionists; — they always kept on the side of hber- 
ality, justice, and advanced thought. Every one of the amend- 
ments they proposed to the Prisons Bill was in the line of 
improvement, and on almost every point, they had the co- 
operation of certain liberal-minded English members. They 
received frequent assistance too from Irish Home Rule mem- 
bers who did not wholly give in adhesion to their methods. 
Major Purcell O'Gorman was their most reUable ally. Mr.Cal- 
lan after his election to Parliament gave them constant sup- 
port ; The O'Gorman Mahon, Mr. A. M. Sullivan, Major 
Nolan, the " Whip " of the Home Rulers, and others from 
time to time voted with them. Butt, it is true came down to 
the House one night, and roundly abused the whole obstuc- 
tion scheme and all its advocates. I think it was the most 
discreditable act of his hfe, even if he disapproved the 
scheme. But his denunciation had no effect whatever, and 
the Obstructionists gathered strength and popularity day 
by day. Butt died soon after, having lived just long enough 
to reap the harvest of his own weakness. He witnessed the 
failure of his conciliatory plans, and he saw the tide of 
opinion in the Home Rule party and in the country at large, 
set plainly in favor of the men he had condemned. 



THE SrOEY OF IKELAKD. ^21 



Mr William Shaw, M. P., of Cork, was chosen leader of the 
Hom'e Rule party upon the death of Mr. Butt. His leader- 
ship, however, was only nominal. Even whde the majority 
of the Home Rule members yet ranged themselves under his 
banner, all the progressive force of the party was concentrat- 
ed with the Obstructionists, and on 'hem and on their domgs 
public attention thenceforward remamed fixed. After the 
Prisons Bill, the Parnellites turned their attenUon to the 
Mutiny Bill,-the law annually adopted by Parhament, it 
may be necessary to explain to American readers, for the gov- 
ernment and discipline of the army. They assa.led wnh 
unsparing vigorthe inhuman provisions of th.s measure, wh.ch 
had been pasied without material change, year after year from 
bond the memory of this generation. They laid itsbarbar.ty 
open to the eyesof the world. Then the British members assa.l- 
ZTl morlfreely than ever. The Irishmen's speeches we e 
drowned in tempests of coughs, jeers, hootings and threats. 
Scenes more suited to a cockpit than a -nate chamber were 
enacted. A retaliatory policy of applying the rues of the 
House to the discomfiture of Obstructionists was also begun. 
Efforts were made to bring the refractory members under 
The censure of their fellows as factionists and incendiaries 
Members-that is Irish ones-were called to order for words 

y ':;er uttered -, such words as they did use -re torture 
and perverted from their true meaning into breaches of 
parliamentary decorum. In time, suspensions for per od 
more or less prolonged succeeded to rebukes by the speak 
"r bu a had no effect. In the face of overwhelming 
odds despite discouragement, obloquy and persecution he 
ealt'nt Ittle band kept up its fight until victory at last 
ne ched upon its banner. The struggle was particulariy 
percuea upo Bill.-whereby the annexation 

7trT™s';aaltas pelted. On this, as on all the other 
liettirthey touched^he ^^^^ ^^t.^:^^'^^ 

:rptiim^^^i"irt;:sriT:s;rpLicai.%iosed. 

?n^ 878 and .879. Obstruction developed into a regular sy^s- 
lem. and oddl/'enough, its first achievements were all m the 



622 THE STORY OF lEELAND. 

line of improving English legislation. In the years men- 
tioned, the Factories and Workshops Act, and the Army 
Discipline Act, were passed. On both Parnell and his follow- 
ers left their mark, and always in the direction of liberality 
to the oppressed classes, and relief to those who were most 
liable to tyrannous ill-usage. 

Was Obstruction justifiable? someone may ask. Can there 
be any doubt, I reply, since it was always used against bad, 
and for good measures? But even in the abstract it was 
quite justifiable. When the " Liberal " party entered on a 
canvass of the country before the general election of 1880, its 
spokesmen pronounced an obstructive policy the right of small 
minorities, as their only means of securing attention. Maga- 
zine articles and speeches to this effect were frequent, and this 
is the truth of the matter. But of course power was accompa- 
nied by oblivion when it came to the Whigs, and the ministry 
of Mr. Gladstone has done more to limit the privileges of 
Parliament than all the Tory governments since the Com- 
monwealth, together. 

On October 25th, 1878, a cable despatch was sent to Dublin 
to be submitted to Mr. Parnell, after it had received the ap- 
proval of the leaders of the Advanced National party in Ire- 
land. It was signed by Dr. William Carroll, of Philadelphia ; 
John J. Breslin, F. F. Millen, and John Devoy of New York ; 
and Patrick Mahon of Rochester, all of whom were promin- 
ent in the Irish revolutionary ranks in America. The essen- 
tial portion of the despatch read thus : — 

The Nationalists here will support you (Mr. Parnell) on the following condi- 
tions: — 

First. Abandonment of the federal demand, and substitution of a general declaration 
in favor of self-government. 

Second. Vigorous agitation of the Land Question on a basis of peasant proprietary, 
while accepting concessions tending to abolish arbitrary eviction. 

Third. Exclusion of all sectarian issues from the platform. 

Fourth. Irish members to vote together on all Imperial and Home questions, adopt 
an aggressive policy, and energetically resist coercive legislation. 

Fifth. Advocacy of all struggling nationalities in the British Empire and elsewhere. 

These proposals constitute the celebrated " New Departure" 
scheme, which has had more influence, and received more 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 623 

abuse ; which has been more wilfully misunderstood, and 
more practically carried out ; which has brought more trouble 
and misconstruction upon the projector, and more benefit to 
the nation than any other political combination in the latter 
days of Irish history. The policy of utter abstinence from 
constitutional agitation grew out of John Mitchel's principle 
that no good thing could come from the English Parliament. 
The practical application of the principle was entirely the 
product of James Stephens' leadership. It was one of his 
mistakes, — one of his worst mistakes. The nation had been 
accustomed to look up to such men as Grattan and O'Connell 
as patriots — in no limited sense of the word either — and I 
know no reason why that estimate of them should be altered, 
and none why such a man as Parnell should be held in any 
less esteem. In truth, I think Stephens' bitter opposition to 
all the open movements of his time was hurtful alike to his 
own organization and the country's prospects. 

Therefore I consider the " New Departure " as the dawn 
of a brighter period in Irish politics, — a period of toleration 
and coordinate effort among the several sections of the Nation- 
al party. If the " New Departure " in the remotest degree 
compromised the great national claim to sovereign indepen- 
dence, no one would condemn it more strongly than I ; but 
it simply meant that while every effort was being made to- 
wards that great goal, every minor advantage possible should 
be wrested from the enemy for the benefit of the people. 

There is no man living who more steadfastly longs for the 
complete separation of Ireland from England than the pro- 
jector of the " New Departure ' scheme ; there is hardly any- 
one known to me who has suffered more or sacrificed more 
for his convictions. The man is John Devoy, formerly one 
of the Fenian convicts, later one of the Fenian exiles, and 
always a devoted Irishman, — a man from whom a distressed 
fellow-countryman has never gone away empty handed ; a 
man who has sacrificed professional prospects, private comfort, 
everything which is generally prized, for the cause to which 
he has given up his life ; a man whose warm heart, honesty of 
purpose, and devoted earnestness have — to my personal 



621 THE STORY OF IEEL.\.SD, 

knowledge— won respect for himself and the principles he 
advocates, in quarters where Irish nationalism is ordinarily 
regarded with dislike or contempt. 

The terms proposed in the cablegram from New York, 
were not formally accepted by Mr. Parnell and his adherents. 
The circumstances of the hour rendered such acceptance im- 
possible. But since that period, the aggressive Parliamentary 
party has had the support of the vast majority of Advanced 
Nationalists both in Ireland and America,— not perhaps as a 
body, but with all the force of numbers, intelligence, and de- 
termination. Mitchel's saying, in his letter to Mr. Sullivan, 
has been realized in an unlooked for way. The parliament- 
ary party is now, and has been since the " New Departure," 
in the position of a " Left Centre," backed and supported 
by an " Extreme Left," and much of its success has resulted 
from the appreciation which the English government has of 
that fact. 

On Sunday, April 2Sth, 1S79, ^" open-air meeting was held 
at Irishtown, County Mayo, which has passed into history as 
the first public step in the founding of the Land League. It 
was not a very large meeting nor were the speakers — Mr. 
O'Connor Power, M. P., perhaps excepted — men of any very 
great note or influence. They were Mr. James Daly of Cas- 
tlebar, who presided ; Mr. Power ; Mr. John Ferguson of 
Glasgow ; Mr. Thomas Brennan, and Mr. J. J. Louden. But 
what the meeting lacked in other respects was made up in the 
novelty and boldness of the doctrines expounded. These did 
not fail to attract the notice of the press and the public, and in 
England, and from the ruling classes generally, a howl of 
" righteous" indignation went up to the skies. Communism, so- 
cialism, treason, were the favorite terms used by the English 
press, then and for many months later, to describe these doc- 
trines, which in realitv were neither more nor less than the 
assertion that the peasant had some rights in the soil he culti- 
vated, and in the products of his own labor. 

Those who have read the preceding portions of this book 
will understand the situation of the Irish tenant farmers. — will 



THE STORY OP IRELAND. 625 

know something of the horrors of 1847, when the people starved 
to death in thousands by the roadsides. Two great changes 
had happened since that period ; — one in Ireland, the other in 
the world at large. The Irish people had been visited with 
the blessings of education and enlightenment ; they had learn- 
ed much as to their rights, and something of their power. All 
Christendom had, even in a quarter of a century or less, been 
filled with a broader spirit of mercy and justice. Those who 
said that the scenes of 1847 could never be repeated in Ireland 
were right, for the danger brought the remedy. 

Save in enlightenment, the condition of the Irish farmer 
was little different in 1879 from what it was in 1847. As the 
lands had improved, rents had been raised, — sometimes the in- 
crease of rent had far exceeded, in proportion, the increase 
of value. Leases had gradually been becoming things of the 
past, and the wretched tenants-at-will suffered all that the tyr- 
anny and greed of foreign masters could infiict. Of course, 
from time to time, " Whiteboy " outrages had taken place in 
various parts of the country, and England on such occasions, 
had waxed virtuous and wroth. But for years nothing had 
been done to remove the cause of the trouble. 

At last one terrible episode, the slaughter at Ballycohey, 
had turned the spirit of concession which Fenianism had evok- 
ed in England, into an agrarian direction, and one of those half- 
hearted measures of reform for which Englishmen are famous, 
had been enacted. The tragedy had occurred on Friday, 
August 14th, 1868. Mr. William Scully, a landlord already 
infamous for his behavior towards his tenantry, had started 
out with a great posse of police for a wholesale service of 
ejectment notices in Ballycohey, which is a townland of Tip- 
perary a few miles from Limerick Junction. The people hav- 
ing fortified one of the farm houses, had poured a hot fire 
from it upon Scully and his myrmidons. He, though his 
dastard breast was covered with a coat of chain mail, had re- 
ceived six bullet wounds, — unhappily he survived them ; — his 
bailiff and a constable had been killed, and several men had 
been wounded. Those who fired from the house were never 
detected. This event had indeed raised a storm not wholly 



623 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

favorable to Mr. Scully or to landlordism generally. The ul- 
timate consequence had been the Land Act of 1870, by which 
Mr. Gladstone tried to secure to the tenants some compensa- 
tion for arbitrary eviction. The landlords however, had 
almost from the first, found means to evade this law, and in 
1879, ^t had become almost a dead letter. At that time, I 
believe, the material condition of the Irish peasant classes 
was almost as bad as it had ever been before. 

It is remarkable that the man who conceived and created 
the Land League was not present at the first meeting at Irish- 
town. The mere accident of missing a train prevented him 
from being there. But he had conducted all the previous 
negotiations, he had caused the meeting to be called, he had 
selected the place — his father had once been a tenant farmer 
near by, and had been evicted in 1848, — and he had drafted 
the resolutions which were adopted, obtaining for them in 
advance, the approval of Patrick Egan, Brennan and others. 

This man was Michael Davitt ; a phenomenal character ; 
one born to great ends and struggling to their achievement 
through clouds of darkness and difficulty. When he was a 
boy, his family lived in great poverty in Lancashire, England. 
He was sent very early to work in a mill, and he lost his arm 
in the machinery. This accident gave him yet a little time 
for study. In early manhood, he was an ardent Fenian, and 
once again accident intervened to cause his arrest and convic- 
tion in 1870, at a time when Fenianism had ceased to be a 
matter of alarm. He was sentenced to fifteen years penal 
servitude ; he served eight. The early woes of his family 
gave his mind its bent. The condition of the agricultural 
classes filled his thoughts while he was in prison. On his re- 
lease he came to America, and at once began an effort to create 
land agitation. " Land for the landless people," became the 
burden of all his speech, and the aim of all his work. He got a 
certain degree of encouragement in America, from those who 
advocated the " New Departure." When he returned to Ire- 
land, he gradually won support there. 

The circumstances of the time favored him. A catastrophe 
like that of 1847, seemed to be impending. The harvest 



THE STORY OF lEELAND. 627 

of 1877 had proved a failure. It fell several millions 
of pounds sterling below the average value. The far- 
mers had to borrow money to sow for the next year. Who 
can exaggerate the crisis when the autumn of 1878 again 
brought disaster ? The crops a second time fell millions of 
pounds below the general standard. Then rents began to be 
deficient, and evictions frequent. The wretched people made 
feeble efforts to reduce the expenses of living, — already near 
the border of starvation. What a winter was that which 
brought 1878 to a close, and opened 1879! In hunger and 
cold, and in still more agonizing suspense, the people waited 
for the spring and summer ; waited to learn whether homes 
and food for their wives and little ones, or the poorhouse, the 
emigrant ship and the roadside were to be their portion. In 
this dark hour, Davitt took his first step. At his instance, the 
call for the Irish town meeting was circulated among the far- 
mers of Mayo. 

This meeting was succeeded by many others, and the 
movement rapidly grew strong in the remote poverty-stricken 
districts of the west. Meanwhile, as the summer wore on, it 
became evident that the crops would for the third time be 
deficient. Then famine — absolute famine stared the country 
and its rulers in the face. Parnell and his followers — in fact 
the Irish members generally, — were alive to the situation. 
They urged the House of Commons to take some steps to 
meet the emergency,— at least to appoint a committee of en- 
quiry. The Rt. Hon. James Lowther, Chief Secretary for 
Ireland, disposed of the whole subject in a sentence. He was 
glad, he said, to think that though depression undoubtedly 
existed in Ireland, it was not so serious as that which prevailed 
in other parts of the *' United " Kingdom. 

After this preciously oracular dictum, Mr. Parnell went to 
Ireland, and entered into the land movement with all his soul. 
At a meeting at Westport on June 8th, he told the people to 
" keep a firm grip on their holdings." This principle became 
the fundamental one of the whole fight. The farmer resisted 
eviction by every means short of violence,— occasionally even 
by violence. On October 21st, the formal organization of the 



628 THE STOKY OF IRELAND. 

LeaguQ took place at a convention of tenant farmers held in 
Dublin. The scheme of organization provided that the objects 
of the League were to obtain a reduction of rack rents, and to 
bring about the establishment of a peasant proprietary. The 
plan of campaign embraced the following methods ; — i. The 
promotion of organization among the tenant farmers. 2. The 
legal defence of thosethreatened with eviction for non-payment 
of unjust rents. 3. To facilitate the working of the " Bright 
Clauses " of the Land Act of 1878, which in some degree provi- 
ded for the purchase of farms by the actual cultivators. 4. Agi- 
tation for such further reform of the land laws as would make it 
possible for tenants to become owners of their holdings by the 
payment of fair sums annually for a certain term of years. Mr. 
Parnell was chosen president of the League , Thomas Bren- 
nan, secretary, and Patrick Egan, a Dublin baker, treasurer. 

As the distress grew deeper in the country, the League grew 
stronger. The Catholic clergy presently came over to it, and 
their immense influence insured its success. They combined 
with the leaders to prevent deeds of violence, and their aid 
was all-important in carrying on the work of relieving distress, 
one of the most prominent features of the League programme. 

In December, Mr. Parnell made his memorable visit to the 
United States. It would be superfluous at this time, and 
writing in New York, to enter into any details as to his recep- 
tion or his doings. I regard the visit, as on the whole, a tri- 
umph for him and for his party. He made, it must be admitted, 
more than one most regrettable mistake ; the American press 
was anything but favorably disposed towards him either at the 
beginning or the end of his stay ; but the people of Irish race 
rallied around him with an enthusiasm seldom equalled, and 
all the great work that has been done in this country ever 
since, has been the result, direct or indirect, of his mission. 
The immediate result was the raising of enormous sums for 
the redemption of the famine-stricken people from starvation. 
At the period of his visit, two relief committees, besides that 
of the League were at work in Ireland — one headed by the 
Duchess of Marlborough, wife of the Lord Lieutenant, the 
other headed by the Lord Mayor of Dublin, and known as the 
Mansion House Committee. America responded to the cry 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 629 

of distressed Ireland with bounteous liberalit}'. The United 
States government gave the use of a war vessel, in which sup- 
plies were forwarded, — best among them, a store of seed po- 
tatoes to take the place of the diseased roots which were 
propagating the germs of famine year after year. The " New 
York Herald" headed a subscription list of its own with the 
splendid offering of $100,000. Its !und reached half a mil- 
lion of dollars, which was distributed by its own agents in 
Ireland. The Land League fund received from America 
three quarters of a million that year alone, and ever since, large 
sums have been forwarded to Ireland from time to time, chiefly 
through the medium of the " Irish World " newspaper, and of 
the Rev. Father Walsh, of Waterbury, Conn., the national 
treasurer of the American branch of the Land League, through- 
out the existence of that body. 

Theresultsof all this magnificent alms-giving were not un- 
worthy of the spirit that prompted it. So far as I have ever 
heard, no man or woman perished of sheer hunger in Ireland. 
To paint the privation and suffering of the winter of 1879-80 
would be a task that I cannot undertake here. The imagination 
of the reader can hardly color the picture in too sombre tones. 
Sickness, want, and sorrow of every kind oppressed the land. 
The depression of that time will yet be felt for years to come. 
But at least, I believe, the final horror was spared, and no man 
died of famine. 

While Parnell was yet in America, those notable allies, the 
Afghans, the Zulus, and the Obstructionists became too much 
for Mr. Disraeli and his Tory followers. The statesman of 
dazzling ideas threw himself upon the country, and the coun- 
try rejected him. A general election was held in April 1880, 
and the Conservatives suffered crushing defeat. Mr. Gladstone 
became prime-minister in May, with a majority of about a 
hundred votes in the House of Commons. The Home Rule 
party made a net gain of ten votes. This was the time when 
Mr. Healey, Mr. T. P. O'Connor, and others of Mr. Parnell's 
best-known followers, were elected to Parliament for the first 
time. In 1880, only a partial measure of relief, the Disturb- 
ance Bill, was proposed by the new ministry ; even this was 
rejected by the House of Lords. 



630 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

All through the autumn and winter, though the harvest was 
a fair one, the distress continued, and the agitation was main- 
tained at its height. This was the era of the celebrated " Boy- 
cotting" system, called after its first victim, an Englishman 
named Boycott, who had leased the farm of an evicted tenant. 
The system consisted simply in the entire withdrawal of 
the people from social or business relations with the ob- 
noxious person, — generally a bailiff or constable, or some- 
one who, like Boycott, had settled upon the land of an evicted 
tenant. No person would speak to one who fell under the ban, 
no person would buy from him, sell to him, or work for him. 

At this time crimes of violence were at their lowest point 
among the peasantry. The English press, it is true, teemed 
with agrarian outrages ; but under scrutiny, nine out of ten of 
these were reduced to mere frivolities, or vanished into fiction 
altogether. In October 1880, Messrs. Parnell, Dillon, Egan, 
Brennan, Boyton, and others, were arraigned in the Court of 
Queen's Bench, in Dublin, for publicly inciting tenants to 
refuse to pay rent. The jury that tried them disagreed, stand- 
ing ten votes for acquittal to two for conviction. 

When Parliament met in 1881, Mr. Gladstone's followers,, 
smarting under this defeat, forced him to open the session by 
proposing a coercion bill. In doing so, he promised that as 
soon as it had become law, a scheme of land reform should 
be proposed. He held this promise out as a bribe to the 
Home Rulers, to allow the speedy passage of the measure of 
oppression. But the Irish members made no base surrender 
of their principles. They recognized that their first duty was 
to resist all aggression on the people's rights. Then were re- 
newed the obstruction scenes of the days of the Mutiny Act. 
Parnell and his followers fought with all their might. The 
struggle was prolonged for a month. Every resource was 
exhausted. But of course, the government prevailed. Be- 
sides the coercion law for Ireland, one for the House of 
Commons was enacted. Worried beyond endurance by the 
tactics of the Parnellites, a short-sighted " Liberal " majority 
legalized a set of rules to muzzle free debate. Thus does Eng- 
land aways temper justice to Ireland with oppression ; thus 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 631 

does she in anticipation destroy, for all purposes of concilia- 
tion, every reform that stern necessity forces her to grant. 

Mr. Gladstone's Land Bill was introduced on April 7th, 
1881, and became law on August 22d, after the Lords had 
done their worst to kill it, and, failing in that, to deprive it 
of all value. The chief feature of the bill, as it was finally 
carried, was the establishment of a system of land courts with 
power to adjudicate as to the fair rents of all property not 
held by lease. Something further was done besides towards 
facilitating the purchase of holdings by the tenants, the gov- 
ernment engaging to lend certain fractions of the purchase 
money under certain circumstances. 

The bill had several fatal defects, — worst among them, the 
lack of any relief for the tenants from the dreadful arrears of 
rent that had been accumulating, and of means for preventing 
evictions, until the land courts could consider at least some of 
the cases that were brought before them in tens of thousands. 
Still, take it all in all, the bill was a wonderful concession 
from a British Parliament, a wonderful victory for the Irish 
people. Its passage marks the climax of the Land League 
movement, and also, so far as now appears, of the career of 
Davitt, and no unworthy climax was it for either. It marks 
a great step in the progress of Ireland ; it teaches a great les- 
son, — that with union, discretion, and determination, the 
people wield irresistible power. 

But while doing justice to the energy and genius of Davitt, 
and the splendid leadership of Parnell, it would, in my opin- 
ion, be unjust to withold a word of gratitude from the statesman 
who has for many years felt deep sympathy for Ireland, and 
who has done more to alleviate her sufferings, than any other 
of his race. It seems to me that those Irishmen who are in the 
habit of heaping abuse on Mr. Gladstone, forget that he is an 
Englishman, and that, after all, his first duty is to his own 
country. It is true he has the failing of dealing sometimes in 
half-measures ; but I think the time will come when the mo- 
tives that have actuated him throughout the turmoil of the 
Land League agitation, will be vindicated, and the people 
whom he has striven to benefit will look upon him as a true 
friend and sympathizer, according to his lights. 



CHAPTER V. 

DECLINE OF THE LAND LEAGUE. " NO RENT." DYNAMITE AND 
THE DAGGER. THE PHCENIX PARK MURDERS. HOPE AGAIN. 
THE NATIONAL LEAGUE. THE CHAPTER STILL UNFINISHED. 

N this chapter my task will not, for the most part, be of 
the pleasantest. A few words I have to say of the 
closing period of the Land League, the period of its 
decline ; I will also, before I close, make some men- 
tion of the National League, the new, and as yet undevel- 
oped oganization for parliamentary agitation ; but the major 
portion of this chapter must be given up to an outline of cer- 
tain perilous and unjustifiable methods recently adopted by 
Irishmen in prosecutmg the fight agamst England. 

The Land Act of 1881 really marks the climax of the Land 
movement. For nearly two years after its adoption the agita- 
tion was maintained at a respectable level, and, as in the case 
of the bill for the adjustment of the arrears of rent, it won 
certain triumphs in its later days. The Ladies' Land League, 
too, which grew into prominence after the main organization 
had been declared seditious and practically suppressed by 
the police, carried on the work of relieving distress among 
the peasantry which continued to prevail long after the Land 
Act had become law. The League also did all that the 
persecution of its principal men would allow, to bring Mr. 
Gladstone's law into active operation by enabling the ten- 
ants to make test cases before the Land Courts. Through- 
out this period vast sums of money were sent from 
America to the League, and throughout the Umted States 
the body gained a strength such as no other, save perhaps 
the Fenian Brotherhood, had ever approached. Thus it will 
be seen that even in its decay the League was strong and 
powerful • still there can be no doubt that in prestige and in 



THE STORY OF IRELAND. 633 

the results it accomplished, the later years of the League 
were far behind the first two. 

Nothing contributed more to shake the power of the 
League than the " No rent " Manifesto of Mr. Parnell, though 
the mistake was by no means so bad as might be supposed 
from the misrepresentation circulated in America, that the 
League leaders had absolutely and m all cases forbidden the 
payment of rent for land. The truth was, Parnell called 
upon the people to pay no rent until the " Suspects " were 
liberated from prison. The Manifesto was intended to be 
purely a measure of retaliation on account of the tyrannic 
application of the Coercion Act. It was published under the 
exasperation caused by the wanton imprisonnient of the lead 
ers of the League, Parnell himself, Dillon, O'Kelly and others 
under the provisions of that law which the ministry had 
guaranteed, at the time of its passage, should only be en- 
forced against " village ruffians." Davitt at the same time 
was re-arrested as a ticket-of-leave convict. There can be ro 
doubt but the moment was one of great provocation ; still the 
Manifesto weakened the power of the League by requirino- 
the people to do an impossible thing. Mr. Healy M P ha's 
very clearly shown that the popular obedience to its require- 
ments was anything but general. Besides it gave the ene- 
mies of Ireland endless opportunity for slander, and unlimited 
excuse for coercion. 

One eflfect of the long separation of the people from their 
leaders, by the imprisonment of the latter, was the great in- 
crease of agrarian crime throughout the country. Coercion 
was utterly ineffectual towards quelling the lawlessness that 
soon prevailed, though it was enforced by Chief Secretary 
* Buckshot " Forster with unsparing ri^or. Mr. Gladstone 
at last resolved on a change of policy. The imprisoned " sus- 
pects, leaders and all alike, were set at liberty ; Mr. Forster, 
m whose heart there was no mercy for an agrarian reformer 

.uiHitv forThe '"""^^' "^^ ^"P^^^^^^^ >■" ^'ffi-- tran- 

:^e:rs:t::r:^t^e;^^^^ 

The tranquillity was short-lived^ It was broken bv th( 



leever 



634 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

to be deplored tragedy of the Phoenix Park, on May 6th, 1882. 
It was Saturday evening, and Lord Frederick Cavendish, the 
new Chief Secretary for Ireland — who had just come over in 
Mr. Forster's place to institute the regime of conciliation — and 
Mr. Thomas H. Burke, the Under Secretar)-, were walking to- 
gether from the Castle to their Lodges m the Park. Near the 
Phoenix Monument, they were met by a party of men armed 
with knives, and by them slain. I think this was about as la- 
mentable an event as has occurred in Irish history this cen- 
tury. The blind infatuation of the guilty men is only the 
slightest possible excuse for their deed. Putting out of view 
the moral phase of the affair, it stands out as glaringly mis- 
chievous to the country. For the time, it cut off from her 
cause all foreign sympathy ; it enabled her enemies to enact 
the most terrible law of oppression that she had ever yet groan- 
ed under. 

The assault had been aimed against Burke, who was justly 
regarded by the people as responsible for much of the Castle 
tyranny. Cavendish was an accidental victim. It is only fair 
to say that there had not been the slightest intention of killing 
him. The murderers did not even know until later who their 
second victim was. This fact, obvious from the beginning, 
was, however, generally ignored amid the horror of the hour. 
The world forgot too that the government, which had driven 
the people to desperation, was really responsible for the crime. 
Ireland's centuries of wrong were for the moment blotted 
from sight by the blood of the two murdered men. 

Some credit is due to Mr. Gladstone, that this awful tragedy 
did not prevent him from enacting the Arrears Bill, the ne- 
cessary supplement to the Land Act. Great credit is also due 
to Parnell that under unequalled discouragement he bravely 
fought the measure which Gladstone, under pressure of 
overwhelming popular opinion, introduced into Parliament 
for the suppression of political offences in Ireland. Parnell's 
resistance was, of course, unavailing, and a terrible system 
was legalized, which gave the government powers equal to 
those of Russian despotism. 

The Phcenix Park murderers jumped on cars, and, driving 




PATRICK O'DONNELL 



THE STOBY OF IRELAND. 635 

away from the scene of the tragedy, contrived to evade de- 
tection for some time. The new powers of the administra- 
tion, however, soon enabled it to solve the mystery. It was 
found that a wide-spread conspiracy to assassinate prominent 
officials existed under the name of the " Invincibles." Five of 
the men most actively concerned in the killing of Burke and 
Cavendish paid the penalty of their deed upon the gallows. 
Their names were Joseph Brady, Timothy Kelly, Michael 
Fagan, Thomas CafFrey, and Daniel Curley. Tynan, the al- 
leged chief of the conspiracy took refuge in America. One 
more, one of the most deeply implicated too, added to the 
crime of murder the infamy of selling his accomplices and 
dupes. The bullet of another Irishman has carried to him the 
reward of his double crime, and I suppose no man has ever died 
amid more general execration than James Carey, the informer. 
Patrick O'Donnell, the avenger of Carey's treason, was not 
as has been alleged, concerned in the attempt made in 1880 
to blow up the London Mansion House. He is, I understand, 
an American citizen, and has never been connected with any 
schemes of incendiarism or assassinations. The Mansion 
House plot was one of a series of efforts at destruction of prop- 
erty by explosives, that have been made in England within 
the past three or four years. All these crimes have been 
planned with a stupidity only equalled by their atrocity. 
Why the Mansion House in 1880, or the offices of the Local 
Government Board in 1883 should have been selected as 
points of attack, no man whose head is not turned with dyna- 
mite projects, can well conceive. If the Parliament Houses,, 
or the Horse Guards, or Buckingham Palace, are the Wool- 
wich Arsenal had been aimed at, the atrocity would have 
been as great ; but there would have been some reason in the 
attempt. So far as I can see, the crimes of this sort, hitherta 
committed or attempted, have been absolutely senseless. Let 
me here add that it must never be forgotten by Irishmen, 
that in enterprises of this kind, success is the thing most to 
be dreaded. The results of a dynamite explosion of any mag- 
nitude, would necessarily be such as to make the name of 
Ireland hateful before the nations of the earth. 



-636 THE STORY OF IRELAND. 

The first appearance of the explosive element in Irish poli- 
tics was in the effort to rescue Richard O. S. Burke from 
Clerkenwell prison in 1867. The wall of the jail yard, in which 
it was supposed Burke was exercising, was blown down with 
gunpowder. Those concerned in the scheme made the dread- 
ful mistake of using a whole barrel of the explosive. The 
shock laid the entire neighborhood in ruins, and twelve peo- 
ple were killed, a hundred and twenty maimed or hurt. The 
3'oung man, BaiTett, who was hanged for this affair, was not 
i believe, a principal in it. Anyhow, the moral guilt of those 
concerned was less than in the later attempts. The whole 
business was a blunder. Had Burke been where his friends 
supposed he was, he would inevitably have been blown to 
atoms. 

The dynamite school of revolutionists, properly so-called, 
was founded by O'Donovan Rossa, who founded the "Skir- 
mishing Fund," well known by name to all Irish Americans, in 
1875, with the avowed object of assailing England with dyna- 
mite in her ships and strongholds, in her palaces and her cen- 
tres of wealth. Much money was subscribed for this purpose 
but nothing was done. A little later, March, 1 877, certain other 
prominent Irishmen, insisted on a change in the trusteeship. 
The fund was thereafter called the Irish National Fund, and it 
has vastly increased in amount. It is managed by a board 
of trustees, who are a strictly secret body. What may or 
•may not have been done with the money, no one can know or 
say, outside the board ; but I am morally certain that no part 
of the money has been used for any of the recent foolish and 
wicked demonstrations in England. 

Shortly after the change of trustees, Rossa ceased to have 
any share in the management of the fund. Since that time, 
he has repeatedly appealed to the public for money for dyna- 
mite projects, and more or less has from time to time been 
contributed. Whether he has had any part in instigating the 
outrages in England, and in aiding the unfortunate and mis- 
guided men. who have recently been arrested there, to un- 
dertake their desperate work, I am sure I cannot pretend 
to say. He has never directly admitted any part in the mat- 



THE STORY OF lEELAND. 637 

ter, he has dealt entirely in generaliiies and inuendoes ; 
but so far as these may be trusted, one is bound to conclude 
that Rossa is one of the prime movers in this most unjusti- 
fiable campaign, — injurious only to Ireland. 

Now, before I close, let me say one word more of hope. 
Amid the gloom of the dynamite and assassination era, the 
statesmanship of Parnell has found a new path that promises 
to lead to fresh victories. Seeing that the Land League 
could no longer be made a means of success, he and his brother 
leaders declared its dissolution, and at a National Conference 
held in the Antient Concert Rooms, Dublin, on October 17th, 
1882, they founded the National League with broader prin- 
ciples and higher aims. America gave an enthusiastic re- 
sponse to the new appeal for aid, and the convention held in 
June this year, in Philadelphia, saw a closer union establish- 
ed among Irishmen in the United States, than had ever be- 
fore existed. 

Once again this book breaks off in the midst of an unfinish- 
ed chapter. What a day may bring to Ireland is uncertain. 
I hope for great things from the League, for great things 
from the new spirit of energy, union, and self- reliance that 
has grown up among the people. But whatever the near 
future may bring, I am certain that no one who has studied the 
history of this century, and especially of the later decades, 
can doubt what the ultimate result will be. I have a firm 
trust that, — whether in this generation or the next, I known not, 
but certainly at some not very far off day,— the chains, rusty 
with the blood of centuries, will be cast off, and Ireland will 
once again take her place, free and independent, among the 
nations of the earth. 

THE END. 



CONTENTS. 



Chapter. Page. 

Author's Preface 3 

Preface to American Edition 7 

Introductory — How we learn the facts of early history 9 

1. How the Milesians sought and found "the Promised Isle " — and con- 

quered it 11 

2. How Ireland fared under the Milesian dynasty 19 

3. How the Unfree Clans tried a revolution ; and what came of it. How 

the Romans thought it vain to attempt a conquest of Ireland 23 

4. Bardic Tales of Ancient Erinn. " The Sorrowful Fate of the Children 

of Usna" 26 

5. The death of King Conor Mac Nessa 35 

(i. The " Golden Age " of Pre-Christian Erinn 38 

7. How Ireland received the Christian Faith 4-5 / 

8. A retrosi^ective glance at pagan Ireland 51 

9. Christian Ireland. The Story of Columba, the "Dove of the Cell ".. . 55 

10. The Danes in Ireland 74 

11. How "Brian of the Tribute" became a High King of Erinn 78 

1 2. How a dark thunder-cloud gathered over Ireland 85 

13. The glorious day of Clontarf 89 

14. "After the Battle." The scene "upon Ossory's plain." The last days 

of national freedom 99 

15. How England became a compact kingdom, while Ireland was breaking 

into fragments 103 

16. How Henry the Second feigned wondrous anxiety to heal the disorders 

of Ireland lOG 

17. The treason of Diarmid M'Murrogh 108 

18. How the Xorman adventurers got a foothold on Irish soil . 112 

19. How Henry recalled the adventurers. How he came over himself to 

punish them and befriend the Irish 121 

20. How Henry made a treaty with the Irish king — and did not keoji it... 127 

21. Death-bed scenes 132 

22. How the Anglo-Norman colony fared 13." 

23. "The bier that conquered." The story of Godfrey of Tyrconnell . . 140 

24. How the Irish nation awoke from its trance, and flung off its chains. 

The career of King Edward Bruce 150 

25. How this bright day of independence Avas turned to gloom. How the 

seasons fought against Ireland, and famine fought for England 156 

639 



/ 



640 CONTENTS. 

Chapter. Page 

26. How the Anglo-Irish lords learned to prefer Irish manners, laws, and 

language, and were becoming "more Irish than the Irish themselves." 
How the king in London took measures to arrest that dreaded evil. . 164 

27. How the vain-glorious Eichard of England and his overwhelming army 

failed to " dazzle" or conquer the Prince of Leinster, Career of the 
heroic Art M'Murrogh 16f> 

28. How the vain-glorious English king tried another campaign against the 

invincible Irish prince, and was utterly defeated as before 177 

29. How the civil wars in England left the Anglo-Irish colony to ruin. 

How the Irish did not grasp the opportixnity of easy liberation 182 

30. How a new element of antagonism came into the struggle. How the 

English king and nation adopted a new religion, and how the Irish 
held fast by the old 181 

31. " Those Geraldines ! those Geraldines ! " 189 

32. The rebellion of Silken Thomas 196 

33. How the " Reformation" was accomplished in England, and how it was 

resisted in Ireland 207 

34. How the Irish chiefs gave up all hope and yielded to Henry; and how 

the Irish clans served the chiefs for such treason 212 

35. Henry's successors : Edward, Mary, and Elizabeth. The career of 

" John the Proud" 21G 

36. How the Geraldines once more leagued against England under the 

banner of the cross. How "the royal Pope" was the earliest and the 
most active ally of the Irish cause 220 

37. How Commander Cosby held a " feast " at Mullaghmast ; and how 

"Ruaii Oge" recompensed that " hospitality." A viceroy's visit to 
Glenmalure, and his reception there 229 

38. " Hugh of Dungannon." How Queen Elizabeth brought up the young 

Irish chief at court with certain crafty designs of her own 235 

39. How Lord Deputy Perrot planned a right cunning expedition, and 

stole away the youthful Prince of Tyrconnell. How, in the dungeons 
of Dublin Castle the boy chief learned his duty towards England ; 
and how he at length escaped, and commenced discharging that 
duty 238 

40. How Hugh of Dungannon was meantime drawing off from England and 

drawing near to Ireland 246 

41. How Red Hugh went circiiit against the English in the North. How 

the crisis came upon O'Neill 252 

42. O'Neill in arms for Ireland. Clontibret and Beal-an-atha-buie 255 

43. How Hugh formed a great national confederacy and built up a nation 

once more on Irish soil 271 

44. How the reconstructed Irish nation was overwhelmed. How the two 

Hughs fought ' ' back to back" against their over powering foes. How 
the " Spanish aid" ruined the Irish cause. The disastrous battle of 
Kinsale 276 

45. " The last Lord of Beara." How Donal of Dunboy was assigned a per- 

ilous prominence, and nobly undertook its duties. How Don Juan's 
imbecility or treason ruined the Irish cause 283 



CONTENTS. 641 

Chapter. I'age- 

46. How the queen's forces set about " tranquilizing " Munster. How Carew 

sent Earl Thomond on a mission into Carbery, Bear, and Bantry 289 

47. How the lord president gathered an army of four thousand men to 

crush doomed Dunboy, the last hope of the national cause in Munster. 292 

48. The last days of Dunboy : a tale of heroism 295 

49. How the fall of Dunboy caused King Philip to change all his plans, and 

recall the expedition for Ireland ; and how the reverse broke the 
brave heart of Red Hugh. How the "Lion of the North" stood at 
bay, and made his toes tremble to the last 305 

50. The retreat to Lei trim ; " the most romantic and gallant achievement 

of the age" 312 

51. How the government and Hugh made a treaty of peace. How England 

came under the Scottish monarchy ; and how Ireland hopefully 
hailed the Gaelic sovereign 322 

52. "The Flight of the Earls. ' How the princes of Ireland went into 

exile, menaced by destruction at home 327 

53. A memorable epoch. How Milesian Ireland finally disappeared from 

history ; and how a new Ireland - Ireland in exile— appeared for the 
fir.st time. How "plantations" of foreigners were designed for the 
" colonization " of Ireland, and the extirpation of the native race. . . . 339 

•54. How the lords justices got up the needful bloody fury in England by 
a " dreadful massacre " story. How the Confederation of Kilkenny 
came about , 352 

55. Something about the conflicting elements of the civil war in .1642-9. 
How the Confederate Catholics made good their position, and estab- 
lished a national government in Ireland , 360 

66. How King Charles opened negotiations with the Confederate Council. 
How the Anglo Irish party would have " peace at any price," and the 
"native Irish" party stood out for peace with honor. How Pope In- 
nocent the Tenth sent an envoy— " not empty-handed" -to aid the 
Irish cause 364 

57. How the nuncio freed and armed the hand of Owen Roe, and bade 

him strike at least one worthy blow for God and Ireland. How glo- 
riously Owen struck that blow at Beinburb 370 

58. How the king disavowed the treaty and the Irish repudiated it. How 

the council by a worse blunder clasped hands with a sacrilegious 
murderer, and incurred excommunication. How at length the royal- 
ists and the Confederates concluded an honorable peace 377 

59. How Cromwell led the Puritan rebels into Ireland. How Ireland by a 

lesson too terrible to be forgotten was taught the danger of too much 

loyalty to an English sovereign 381 

■60. The agony of a nation 383 

<il. How King Charles the Second came back on a compromise. How a new 

massacre story was set to work. The martyrdom of Primate Plunkett. 394 
ii'l. How King James the Second, by arbitrarily asserting liberty of con- 
science, utterly violated the will of the English nation. How the 
English agreed, confederated, combined, and conspired to depose the 
king, and beat up for " foreign emissaries" to come and begin the 
rebellion for them 400 



C-l'i CONTENTS, 

Chapter. Page. 

63. How William and James met face to face at the Boyne. A plain sketch 

of the battle-field and the tactics of the day 405 

C-i. "Before the battle " 410 

Co. The Battle of the Boyne 414 

60. How James abandoned the struggle ; but the Irish would not give up.. 422 

67. How "William sat down before Limerick, and began the siege. Sars- 

field's midnight ride — the fate of William's siege train 420 

68. How William procured a new siege train and breached the wall. How 

the women of Limerick won their fame in Irish history. How the 
breach was stormed and the mine sprung. How William fled fi"om 
' ' uneonqnered Limerick'' 435 

Cy. How the French sailed off, and the deserted Irish army starved in rags, 
but would not give up the right. Arrival of "'St. Kuth, the vain 
and brave" 439 

70. How Ginckle besieged Athlone. How the Irish "tept the bridge, "and 
how the brave Custume and his glorious companions "died for Ire- 
land." How Athlone, thus saved, was lost in an Lour 441 

7L " The Culloden of Ireland." How Aughrim was fought and lost. A 

story of the battle-field ; " the dog of Aughrim," or fidelity in death. 451 

72. How glorious Limerick once more braved the ordeal. How at length 

a treaty and capitulation was agreed upon. How Sarstield and the 
Irish army sailed into exile 462 

73. How the treaty of Limerick was broken and trampled under foot by the 

" Protestant Interest" yelling for more plunder and more persecution. 469 

74. " The penal times." How "Protestant Ascendancy" by a bloody penal 

code endeavored to brutify the mind, destroy the intellect, and de- 
form the physical and moral features of the subject Catholics 474 

75. The Irish army in exile. How Harsfield fell on Landen plain. How 

the regiments of Burke and O'Mahoney saved Cremona, fighting in 

' ' muskets and shirts. " The glorious victory of Fontenoy . How the 

' Irish exiles, faithful to the end, shared the last gallant effort of Prince 

Charles Edward 479 

[ 76. How Ireland began to awaken from the sleep of slavery. The dawn of 

Legislative Independence 488 

77. How the Irish Volunteers achieved the legislative independence of Ire- 

land ; or, how the moral force of a citizen army effected a peaceful, 
legal, and constitutional revolution 493 

78. What national independence accomplished for Ireland. How England 

once more broke faith with Ireland, and repaid generous trust with 
base betrayal ^^'■ 

79. How the English minister saw his advantage in provoking Ireland into 

an armed struggle ; and how heartlessly he labored to that end 504 

80. How the British minister forced on the rising. The fate of the brave 

Lord Edward— how the brothers Sheares died hand in hand- the 
rising of Ninety-eight 5^^' 

81. How the government conspiracy now achieved its purpose. How the 

Parliament of I: eland was extinguished 520 

82. Ireland after the ITni Dn. The story of Robert Emmet 531 



CONTENTS. 643 

^83. How the Irish Catholics, under the leadership of O'Connell, won Cath- 
olic Emancipation 54O 

M. How the Irish people next sought to achieve the restoration of their 
legislative independence. How England answered them with a chal- 

I lenge to the sword 54^ 

'85. How the horrors of the famine had their effect on Irish politics. How 
the French revolution set Europe in a llame. How Ireland made a 
vain attempt at insurrection 554 

86. How the Irish exodus came about, and the English press gloated over 

the anticipated extirpation of the Irish race 560 

87. How some Irishmen took to -the politics of despair." How England's 

revolutionary teachings "came home to roost." How General John 
O'Neill gave Colonel Booker a touch of Fontenoy at llidgeway 566 

88. The unfinished chapiter of eighteen hundred and sixty-seven. How 

Ireland, "oft doomed to death," has shown that she is " fated not to 

<5ie." 574 

Valedictory 5g2 

SUPPLEMENT. 

1. Year of excitement and alarm. Sequel of the lamentable rising of 

1867. The Jacknell Expedition. The M anchester rescue. God save 
Ireland 583 

2. Revival of Parliamentary agitation in Ireland. The demand for • 

amnesty a practical endorsement of Fenianism. Disestablishment. 
O'Donovan Eossa, M.P 593 

3. How Irishmen of opposite opinions combined at last in their coun- 

try's cause. Strength at the hustings, and weakness in the Com- 
mons. John Mitchel 602 

4. Obstruction. Men and methods that worried the House of Commons. 

A new and happy departure. Famine. Land for the landless peo- 
ple. Parnell, Devoy, Davitt 615 

5. Decline of the Land League. The "No Rent " blunder. Dynamite and 

the dagger. The Phoenix Park murders. Hope again. The Na- 
tional League. The chapter still unfinished 632 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Page. 

The Milesians sighting the " Promised Isle " 11 

Queen Scota unfurls the • ' Sacred Banner " 17 

Recital of the Bardic Tales in Ancient Erinn 26 

The death of King Dahi . . 4'J 

8t. Columba led blindfolded into the Convention 55 

The murder of King Mahon 78 

Brian on the morning of Clontarf 95 

Ihe Norman landing 112 

The meeting of Eva and Strongbow 119 

The Death-bed of King Henry the Second ... 132 

Godfrey of Tyrconnell borne into battle 145 

Edward Bruce crowned king of Ireland 161 

Mac Murrough warned of the plot by his Bard 169 

Silken Thomas flings up the Sword of State 201 

The " Reformers" at their work 207 

Stealing away the Tyrconnell Princes 238 

Red Hugh O'Donnell's welcome home 249 

The Conflict before Armagh 257 

Dunboy besieged 295 

The last .struggle of Mac Geoghegan 303 

'• The Flight of the Earls ' 327 " 

The Princes received by the Pope 3.37 

Mac Mahon before the Lords Justices . . 853 

Authentic portrait of Owen Roe O'Neill 363 

Depositing the captured Enulish Standards in Limerick Cathedral 370 

Seizing the Irish children for Slave-gangs 391 

Battle of the Boyne 410 

Sarsfield captures the Siege Train 433 

How they kept the bridge at Athlone 447 

The Dog of Aughrim 45 1 

Mass on the Mountain m the Penal times 477 

The capture of Lord Edward Fitzgerald 513 

A scene from the Irish exodus 561 



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